
OF INDUSTRY 


CAPTAINS 


YOUNG 


FORTHE NORTON 

NAME 


HOLLIS GODFREY 


noonnn 




Copyright N° 


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For the Norton Name 









































































































George stood looking down into the pot. — Frontispiece. 

[See page jj] 


rOUNG CAPTAINS OF INDUSTRT 


For the Norton Name 


By 

Hollis Godfrey 

Author of “The Man Who Ended War” 


Illustrated 

By Thomas Fogarty 


Boston 

Little, Brown, and Company 


Copyright, 1909, 

By Perry Mason Company. 

Copyright, 1909, 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 
All rights reserved 

Published, September, 1909 



r * 248004 

SEP 24 1909 


printers 

8. J. Pabkhill & Co., BOSTOB, U. 8. A. 


ROWLAND THOMAS 

OF 

SUNNYSLOPE 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 


“ For the Norton Name” was originally 
written for the Youth's Companion , in which 
magazine seven chapters of the present twelve 
appeared as a serial story. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I Page 

George Norton comes to the turning point of his 

fortunes I 

CHAPTER II 

Mr. Eyden finds a possible way out .... 23 

CHAPTER III 

George Norton makes certain discoveries in the 

glass factory 36 

CHAPTER IV 

A deputy sheriff and a writ of attachment play 

a part 54 

CHAPTER V 

George Norton meets numerous obstacles in 

getting through to a lake in a wood lot . . 69 

CHAPTER VI 

The hero wakes up in a wagon with his head in 

a blanket and his hands tied 83 

CHAPTER VII 

Two unwise emissaries present a document which 

they wish signed 108 


X 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER VIII Page 

An old friend comes to the rescue with a burnt 

wood outfit 128 


CHAPTER IX 

Jack Collerton acts as a good Samaritan . . . 155 

CHAPTER X 

Two friends of the Norton Glass Company have 

an unexpected encounter on a dark road . 176 

CHAPTER XI 

Jack Collerton pays a visit to Camperdown Col- 
lege, where he is forced to use all his powers 
of persuasion 198 

CHAPTER XII 

A sudden difficulty is solved by a swift motor 
flight, a contract is signed, and the road to 
a bright to-morrow opens clear . . . . 219 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


George stood looking down into the pot . . Frontispiece 

Page 

“ If this man does not go out of his own accord, 

throw him out,” said George 20 

“This is an unexpected pleasure! ” cried Mr. Eyden 27 
“Stop that wheel ! ” shouted the sheriff .... 61 


A wagon passed containing two men, neither of 

whom he had seen before 76 

“Well, show me the laboratory anyway,” said the 

chemist cheerily 215 



On the very stroke of nine, the car drew up at the 
Waldorf 
































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FOR THE NORTON NAME 


CHAPTER ONE 

The third George Norton was dead, and 
the fourth George Norton had taken up his 
heritage in a troublous time. For eighty 
years the seething furnaces of the Norton 
Glass Company had sent glass far and wide 
across the land. Now a combination, the 
International Glass Company, had absorbed 
most of the works which produced the 
special grade for which the old firm was 
famous. Against this union of factories the 
elder George Norton had fought single- 
handed. Blow after blow had fallen on the 
Norton Company in the fight, but the greatest 
blow of all had come when the fighter himself 
fell. He left a heavy burden to his son. 

Immediately after his father’s death, 
George Norton had returned to college to 


2 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

wind up his affairs. He was sitting at 
breakfast one morning when a telegram was 
brought to him. It was an urgent recall to 
the factory. 

In the brisk October morning the little 
village looked its best when the slender, 
black-clad lad turned in from the highway, 
down the short road to the glass-house. 

As he approached, the sound of voices arose 
within, the door swung open suddenly, and 
two men emerged. One was shrewd-faced 
and wore the workman’s dress; the other 
was gray-haired and spectacled, with the 
noticeable stoop of the man who spends his 
life over desk or laboratory bench. The older 
man was gesticulating forcibly, and his words 
were plain. 

“ Get out ! Get out ! ” he cried. “ Get out 
with your prying face ! If I ever see you on 
our premises again, I ’ll have you jailed ! This 
is the third time you’ve been here on the pre- 
tense of wanting work, you sneak, you spy! 
You won’t have any such chance again.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 3 

The workman simply shrugged his 
shoulders. “All right, all right; that ends 
it,” he said, and started down the road 
with a slight smile on his lips. 

Then for the first time the gray-haired man 
saw the lad, who had remained a silent and 
amazed spectator. 

“ O George, — Mr. Norton, I should say 
now, — I am so glad you are back! The 
International Glass Company people are 
worrying me to death. That is one of their 
men I have just turned out. He has been 
trying to examine the factory. I stopped him 
before he got into the storeroom, though; 
that's one good thing. I don't intend that 
they shall know how much unsold stock we 
have. It would tell them altogether too 
much about the small amount of business we 
have done in the last year. I could n't go on 
any farther without knowing what you were 
going to do, so Mr. Barnard and I tele- 
graphed you.” 

“ I did n't think the I. G. C. would stoop as 


4 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
low as that!” cried George. “That's a lot 
worse than anything I ever heard of. I know, 
of course, they tried to get the mill a while 
ago, and made all sorts of trouble, but per- 
sonal spying is the lowest yet. Is Mr. Barnard 
here?” 

“He is, and waiting for you in the office.” 

There George found the old family lawyer 
fast asleep, his gray head thrown back against 
the cushions. As the lad entered, the old man 
suddenly awoke. 

“Good morning, George! Tm afraid 
you've caught me napping,” he said. 

“Our time of meeting is a little early,” 
George replied, and then went on excitedly, 
“Did you know that Mr. Howes has just 
found, as he believes, an I. G. C. spy around 
the place?” 

“No, but I am not surprised,” said Mr. 
Barnard. “The International Glass Com- 
pany matter is indirectly the cause of my 
wishing to see you as soon as possible. 
They've proved themselves the worst men in 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 5 

the glass business yet. In my experience I’ve 
never known anything like it. The main 
reason for your recall, however, is two letters, 
both written to your father before his death, 
which had been overlooked. It seems queer 
that these two letters should not have been 
seen, but your father ran the business as such 
a one-man affair that when he died it seemed 
as if everything stopped. They were of such 
importance that I thought you had better see 
them at once, and I felt, too, that it was time 
you knew where you were.” 

The lawyer reached into the worn green 
bag by his side, fumbled in it for a moment, 
and brought forth two letters. 

“ There, George, read those.” 

As he read, the old lawyer looked carefully 
at the boy. Always before the lad had been to 
him simply the son of his old friend and client. 
Now he was the head of the Norton Glass 
Company, its sole directing force and the one 
barrier which stood between the little town 
and its commercial destruction. 


6 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

The face that the old man saw was an 
attractive one. Open, frank and merry, with 
broad forehead and sparkling eyes, it was now 
somewhat drawn and lined by the recent 
ordeal of pain and loss. As the lawyer looked, 
he smiled, and thought, “He certainly has 
the Norton chin. He’s the image of his 
Uncle Tom, who died at Antietam.” 

Here is the first letter which the lad read : 

I. M. HAMMOND & CO. 

H^holtsal* Dtaltrs in 

BUILDING SUPPLIES • WINDOW GLASS A SPECIALTY. 

IV* us* th* 

Product of the Norton Glass Company. 

New York, October ai, 1908. 
Mr. George B. Norton : 

Dear Mr. Norton , — Since our last conference I 
have tried every means in my power to secure a market 
for your goods, but in vain. Old customers, who have 
always used your goods and would be willing to pay a 
fair price for them, dare not buy because the I. G. C. 
has warned them that you are going down, and that if 
they buy from you they will never have a chance to 
buy from them. I have tried to get hold of them 
legally for this, but they have done their work too 
cleverly and I cannot. As for my newer customers, 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 7 

the I. G. C. will go right in and sell them for far less 
than cost. So I have found myself shut off in every 
direction. In consequence, greatly to my regret, I am 
forced to countermand my orders and to say that I shall 
be unable to continue our very satisfactory connection. 

Yours very truly, 

I. B. Hammond. 

As George ended, he looked up inquiringly. 

“There goes what is practically your last 
customer, George,” said Mr Barnard. “Go 
on with the next letter.” 

SECOND NATIONAL BANK. 

October 22, 1908. 

Norton Glass Company : 

Gentlemen , — On examination of the general condi- 
tions surrounding your business we regret to say that 
we do not feel we can make a new loan to replace that 
paid by you on the second of this month. 

Yours very truly, 

Second National Bank. 

By A. F. Jones, Cashier . 

George’s face showed amazement, anger 
and alarm. He looked up, eager for encour- 
agement from the lawyer. But Mr. Barnard 
shook his head, and said: 


8 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


‘‘That’s the I. G. C. once more. That is 
the end of your credit. They have been after 
the bank for two years, trying to undermine 
your father.” 

“But how can they do it? How can a 
national bank do such things ? ” 

“It’s the result of several causes — a timid 
president, two directors who hold stock in 
the I. G. C., and sufficient truth about the 
poor condition of the business to give a fair 
foundation for refusal of credit. Unfortu- 
nately, I don’t believe you can get credit 
from any other bank now. The firm has 
carried its account at the Second National 
so long that a change would be viewed with 
suspicion.” 

George sat back with a very sober face. 
“ That is much worse than I imagined,” he said, 
at last. “ I had reason to believe that things 
were better. I want to know three things. Am 
I in full control ? Do you personally believe 
the mill is badly off, and do you imagine that 
the I. G. C. can run us out of business ?” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 9 

“You are in full control, George. As you 
know, you are your father’s only heir and 
the sole executor. As to the other questions, 
I rather think they can run you out of business. 
They have been working hard to do that very 
thing ever since your father refused their offer 
of a quarter of a million two years ago. Each 
month has brought some new misfortune, 
some old customer lost, or new one suddenly 
refusing to take his goods. If they should 
only make another offer, however small, I 
would advise you strongly to take it, but 
I doubt if they will. There ’s very little 
money left, and you see where the customers 
are.” 

“How about our supplies, our made-up 
stock and our coal ? ” 

“Howes would know that better than L 
Ask him.” 

George jumped up from his chair. “Let’s 
go to see him.” They turned from the main 
office, and met the superintendent in the 
corridor. 


io FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“Mr. Howes,” began George, “how long 
can we run without buying anything more in 
the way of supplies ? ” 

“A little over one month. We ’re especially 
short of the thing we need most — sodium 
carbonate. We ought to have more than 
enough of it on hand. I tried my best when 
soda was cheap two months ago to get your 
father to buy some. I spoke to him about it 
day after day, but he kept putting it off. In 
fact, that ’s one of the most serious things 
about our present condition. Soda has gone 
up very rapidly, and here we are forced to 
buy at the top of the market if we are to 
keep running.” 

“I can’t see why father did that,” said 
George. “I remember last summer, and 
summer before, when I was working here in 
the mill with him, that he spoke over and over 
again of the necessity for keeping up the 
sodium carbonate and sand supply. He 
always took great care, too, in the quality of 
both, especially the sodium carbonate. He 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 11 

usually kept a good stock of it on hand, 
didn’t he?” 

“ Always up to the present time,” said Mr. 
Howes, “but it is low enough now. Luckily^ 
we have enough sand, lime and coal. What 
you really ought to see, though, is the stock- 
room. Suppose we go down there.” 

The three passed out into the grassy space 
before the new factory, and walked slowly 
down toward the old factory, set up eighty 
years before by the Norton who founded the 
company. For the past three years it had 
been used solely as a storehouse. 

This they entered first. Racks upon racks 
of window-glass filled every one of the big 
rooms from floor to ceiling, while only narrow 
lanes appeared between the high-piled stock. 
From the old factory they went to the store- 
house proper. Here there was not room 
enough for proper handling. 

“How much stock is there here?” asked 
George. 

“Probably a hundred thousand dollars 


12 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
have gone into this. Your father kept the 
mill running to give work, but we ’ve not sold 
one-tenth of our output the last two years; 
the rest of it has been stored here. No one 
outside the company knows that, however.” 

At the sound of voices an old workman 
came hurrying out of one of the cross aisles, 
an old stock ledger in his hand. 

“Oh, here is old John, the stockman,” said 
George. “Good morning, John!” 

“Good morning, Mr. George! It’s sorry 
and glad, too, I am to see you here this 
morning.” 

George nodded. 

“ I suppose this will all go out in a few days, 
won’t it?” John asked. 

“No, I don’t believe so.” 

“And didn’t the gentleman who was here 
buy the goods, after all, Mr. Howes?” in- 
quired the stockman of the superintendent. 

“ I don’t know anything about it,” said the 
superintendent, in bewilderment. “What 
gentleman — what did he do ? ” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 13 

“Why, the man that came that day just 
before Mr. Norton was taken sick,” said the 
stockman, “when you were both away, looked 
all over the stock, measured it, took my figures, 
and went. He said he came from you and 
had bought it.” 

“I don’t know anything about him. You 
had no business to let him in!” snapped the 
superintendent. 

“Well, Mr. Howes,” said George, in coura- 
geous tones, “there is one more card played 
by the I. G. C. They certainly, for some 
reason, seem bound to get every bit of in- 
formation they possibly can as to the actual 
conditions existing in the mill. It seems as 
if they were sparing no trouble and no pains 
to get at the true state of affairs. I don’t see 
just what they are doing it for, but anyway, 
they have won that move, and we ’ll try not 
to worry about that.” 

“I only wish I could get hold of the man 
who got in here!” exclaimed Mr. Howes. 
“ I ’d settle him, anyway.” 


14 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


The three turned back to the office, and as 
they went the lawyer spoke: 

“Mr. Howes, I tell Mr. Norton that the 
best thing for him to do is to sell. If he sells 
to-day, he will have something left. If he 
waits three months, he will not.” 

“I am afraid you are right,” replied the 
superintendent, sadly. “I have been in the 
Norton Company, man and boy, for forty-five 
years, but I think the end has come. I don’t 
see anything to do but sell the mill.” 

“ I will not do it ! ” cried George, firmly. “ I 
have more than one sufficient reason for keep- 
ing the factory in my own hands. I am not 
going to give up the life-work of three Nortons 
in a minute. I am not going to throw every 
man, woman and child in this village on the 
mercy of the I. G. C. I have another and a 
better reason still. The month before my 
father died he was down at college to see 
me — 

A knock at the door interrupted him. Fol- 
lowing the knock, the door opened, and a 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


15 

bullet-headed individual, with curly red hair, 
entered, a spirit of aggressiveness seeming to 
characterize his every movement. 

“Good morning!” he said. “I am Mr. 
Patrick Gilmartin of the International Glass 
Company. I came up here expecting to see 
the elder Mr. Norton, and as I found him 
dead, I felt, as I could not lose time, I had 
better see the younger Mr. Norton at once. 
So I came here.” 

George flushed hotly at the man’s tone, and 
Mr. Barnard started from his chair. Before 
he could speak, George interposed: 

“We will hear what you have to say, Mr. 
Gilmartin.” 

“I came up here, as I said, to see your 
father, and make him a last proposition from 
our company. Two years ago we made him 
an offer which he very foolishly refused. The 
value of your business has gone off tremen- 
dously since then, and it is worth scarcely any- 
thing to-day. We are, however, willing to 
consider taking it at a price.” 


1 6 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
“Are you the accredited representative 
whom the company has sent out for this 
purpose ?” 

“I certainly am. As long as you’ve asked 
that, I ’d like to know whether you own what’s 
left of this business or whether some one else 
does. How is it, Mr. Barnard ? Who is the 
guardian of this young man ? ” 

“He is his own guardian. He is in com- 
plete control,” said Mr. Barnard, angrily. 
“But I want to say — ” 

Patrick Gilmartin broke in rudely: “Oh, 
cut out anything else ; that ’s all I wanted to 
know. Now, Mr. Norton, let’s come to the 
point. You may or may not know the facts 
about your business. I do. You have no 
customers worth mentioning. Most of your 
product for the last two years is in your 
storehouse. You have very little cash and 
very little credit. We have beaten you at 
every point. In fact, you are down and 
out.” 

By a great effort George had gained com- 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 17 
plete control of himself. “ Charming frank- 
ness you possess, Mr. Gilmartin.” 

“ I am not used to taking back talk 
from boys!” Gilmartin snarled. “I’m here 
to talk business. Your father must have 
been crazy to give the control of things to 
you.” 

“Look here — ” burst out Mr. Howes; 
but George stopped him. 

“Mr. Gilmartin, you came here with an 
offer from the International Glass Company. 
Will you kindly state what it is without any 
more words ? ” 

The representative of the International 
Glass Company was evidently getting warm. 
“I don’t propose to be dictated to by any 
whipper-snappers as to how much or what I 
shall say or shall not say!” he exclaimed. 
“You are in a tight hole, and if I had my 
way about it I’d leave you there.” 

“ But you have n’t your own way, you 
know,” said George, in his politest tone. 
“Your company sent you here with a prop- 


1 8 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

osition to make to us. Are you going to 
make us that offer or not?” 

Gilmartin felt he might have gone a little 
too far. His company certainly wanted him to 
make the offer, so he went on rather sullenly : 

“The International Glass Company will 
give you fifty thousand dollars for all your 
property — mill, lands and cottages, stock and 
water rights, excluding your residence. Now 
you can take it or leave it.” 

“That is,” said George, “you offer me 
fifty thousand dollars for property worth over 
two hundred and fifty thousand.” 

“Two hundred and fifty thousand fiddle- 
sticks ! ” said the urbane representative of the 
International Glass Company. “ It has never 
been worth that in its palmiest days. Your 
father may have told you that, but he knew 
better if he did. There’s nothing left for you 
to do but to take the offer.” 

George felt a fierce desire to plunge his fist 
into Gilmartin’s face, but he restrained him- 
self once more. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 19 

Gilmartin drummed on the arms of his 
chair. “I am not here for the purpose of 
discussing values,” he said. “I am here to 
make you an offer. An excellent offer I call 
it, everything considered.” 

“Well, I refuse!” said George, sharply. 

Gilmartin sat forward suddenly. “You 
refuse ! See here, Barnard, knock some sense 
into his head! He doesn’t know what he’s 
doing. He’s a bigger fool than his father 
was.” 

George had held in until the breaking- 
point had come. “There’s the door, you 
cad ! Get out of here or I ’ll put you 
out!” 

“ I won’t ! ” said Gilmartin. 

George stepped to the desk, lifted the tele- 
phone, and pressed the stock-room button. 
“John, come up here, quick, with the two 
other men you have there.” 

Gilmartin began a confused mumble of 
threats and ejaculations, while the lad, the 
lawyer and the superintendent sat still, but 


20 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
with clutched fists and reddened faces. In a 
minute the three workmen appeared at the 
door. 

“If this man does not go out of his own 
accord, throw him out,” said George. “I 
won’t soil my fingers on you, you brute, but if 
you ever show your face here again, I ’ll have 
you run out of town ! ” 

The representative of the International 
Glass Company rose and stood silent for a 
moment. Evidently he was debating his 
course of action. He slowly made his way 
to the door, where he turned, shaking his 
fist. 

“I’ll see you begging yet!” he growled 
savagely. “We have you just where we want 
you, and I’ll see your finish inside of two 
months. I ’ll fix you for this ! ” 

“Shut that door, John,” said George. 

John closed the door so quickly that it 
came into pretty violent contact with Mr. 
Gilmartin’s person, and his final departure 
was far from dignified. As his more than 



If this man does not go out of his own accord, throw him out. 






































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FOR THE NORTON NAME 21 
muttered remarks died away in the distance, 
George turned to the workmen. 

“ That’s all,” he said. “ Thank you.” 

As they passed out, he turned to the super- 
intendent. “ Start the mill as usual to-morrow, 
Mr. Howes. I go to New York to-night, and 
shall not be home for a day or two.” 

As Mr. Howes withdrew, the old lawyer 
shook his head. 

“Young blood, young blood!” he said, 
shaking his gray head. “It was pretty bad, 
but you ought to have accepted that offer, 
George. What can you do ? ” 

“I can find out what my father meant to 
do,” said George, emphatically. “That is 
what I was going to tell you just as that man 
came in. Father was very much more cheerful 
the last time I saw him. He had been very 
dubious with regard to the business for some 
time, but that time he joked about the trust, 
made plans of various sorts for the mill, and 
just as I left the station, he said, ‘Next time 
you come home I ’ll show you something that’s 


22 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

going to mean a lot to you and me, my boy/ 
I never saw him alive again, but I believe 
that father knew something that would save 
the factory, and I’m going to find out what 
it is.” 


CHAPTER TWO 

TTWO mornings later George Norton en- 
tered the New York office of Eyden & Amer, 
who furnished glass-makers’ supplies. 

He was admitted to Mr. Eyden’s private 
room. 

‘Good morning, Mr. Norton, I’m glad to 
see you! Your father was one of my best 
friends,” said the head of the supply-house. 
“What can I do for you?” 

“I’ve come,” George replied, “to ask for 
your help. I want to save my business. I 
want time to do it. To get that time I want 
supplies for which I may not be able to pay 
at once. I want them from you.” 

George outlined the situation. The mer- 
chant watched him keenly as he spoke, and 
noted the clear knowledge that lay behind his 
words. As George paused for breath, he 
interposed : 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


24^ 

“Mr. Norton, I wonder if you realize in 
what a serious state of affairs you ’ve repre- 
sented yourself to be ? How can you, without 
experience or training, expect to succeed 
where, from your own showing, your father 
failed ? Why are you so anxious to go on ? ” 

“I am anxious to go on because the glass- 
house is part of my life, because it is the place 
which my people have been building up 
through eighty years, and because it is the 
work that my father loved. I am anxious to 
save the village, which is wholly dependent 
upon our factory for existence. And I believe 
my father had some process which was going 
to make him able to lower his cost of produc- 
tion tremendously. I feel certain of this from 
what he said to me before he died. If I can 
have a little time I feel I can find out what that 
secret is,” and he told Mr. Eyden the story of 
that last interview. 

“I cannot quite see things your way,” 
replied the merchant. “It seems to me that 
there is one fatal difficulty. Suppose you do 


FOR THE NORTON NAME *25 
get a process which will materially diminish 
your cost of production. Assume that your 
father had some secret which would make it 
possible for you to underbid your competitors. 
Even then I do not believe that you can get 
customers. Your father, with his wide ac- 
quaintance and long experience, might have 
done so. You cannot. I believe that you 
might make a success of the work, provided 
you had a sufficient body of trade, but to 
combine the work required to decrease cost 
with a search for reluctant customers is more 
than you can hope to accomplish.” 

It was hard logic, but George’s face showed 
no signs of weakening. “Mr. Eyden,” he 
said, “I know it’s a hard thing, but I can 
do it. There is no one who can help me ex- 
cept you. Won’t you give me the chance to 
try?” 

The merchant hesitated. “My dear boy,” 
he said, “putting everything aside, I do not 
believe I have any right to encourage you to 
keep on to your own destruction. If I could 


26 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


see any way to get you customers I would do 
it in a minute, but I am in no position to do 
that, and the combination in your line is 
certainly too strong for you to get them alone. 
Let us look at the other side of it for a moment. 
Suppose you sell the mill at the I. G. C.’s 
price, you have a good sum of money back of 
you.” He stopped, and ended with a kindly 
smile. “I think Eyden & Amer could offer 
you a position more worth your while than 
anything which you might obtain from a 
desperate struggle with a sinking concern.” 

The tears filled George’s eyes at the kindly 
tone and generous offer. 

“ I wish I could tell you how much I appre- 
ciate that,” he said. “ But I cannot stop until 
I have done everything possible to save the 
factory. I know it is what father would have 
wanted me to do. I am sure the secret of 
success lies hidden there, and I shall work 
night and day to find it. If I lose, why, then 
I shall know I have done my best. I see your 
point perfectly, and I shall not ask you for any 




li 


f i 






“ This is an unexpected pleasure!” cried Mr. Eyden. 

Page 27 




FOR THE NORTON NAME 27 
more supplies. I have enough for thirty days, 
and I’ll see what I can do on that.” 

He rose to leave, and the merchant shook 
his head as he saw the boy’s downcast visage. 
“It’s a big mistake. I wish I could give you 
the supplies, but I cannot see any use in 
putting off the inevitable end any further.” 
At this moment the office boy entered with a 
card. The merchant read it with an ex- 
clamation of pleasure. He turned to George. 

“ Don’t go,” he said. “This is one of my 
oldest and best friends, Crevecceur, a Belgian, 
who is the agent of a Mexican glass-house.” 

A moment later the Belgian entered, a man 
six feet or more in height, who wore a great 
brown beard and spreading mustache. “This 
is an unexpected pleasure !” cried Mr. Eyden. 
“When did you land ?” 

“Not half an hour ago,” replied the agent. 
“I came to you at once. I wanted to see you 
about something. It will take only a short 
time.” He looked at George, whom Mr. 
Eyden hastened to introduce. 


28 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


George said, “I’ll go away now, Mr. 
Eyden.” 

“Hold on ! Wait in the next office, and we 
will go out to lunch together later,” said Mr. 
Eyden. 

“Very well,” said George, and he passed 
out. 

Plunged in the depths by the failure of his 
interview, George had sat for half an hour 
when the inner door opened, and he heard his 
name. 

He reentered Mr. Eyden’s office. 

“Mr. Norton,” said the merchant, “you 
seem to have arrived at the very nick of time. 
Mr. Crevecoeur is here to arrange for a five 
years’ contract for glass of exactly your grade, 
which would about take your whole output. 
He has been in correspondence with the 
International Glass Company, but he is 
entirely ready to consider a bid from you. I 
have told him all about your firm, and I told 
him also that I was furnishing you supplies.” 

While the merchant spoke, George’s mind 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


29 

had passed from the blackness of dejection to 
the light of hope. Supplies and a customer, 
and both coming at a moment when every- 
thing seemed against him ! He could not 
control his jubilant tone as he said, “I shall be 
very glad to submit a bid.” 

Mr. Eyden turned to the Belgian. “Mr. 
Crevecceur, suppose you explain the situation 
farther.” 

“ I am very glad to do so,” the foreign agent 
replied. “I have received an offer, Mr. 
Norton, from the International Glass Com- 
pany, which I was about to accept simply 
because I thought we had canvassed the 
situation thoroughly. 

“In brief, these are the conditions. We are 
ready to sign a five years’ contract for two 
hundred thousand square feet of glass per 
year. All the glass is to be of a certain fixed 
quality, practically the same grade of goods 
you now turn out. The price is to be made 
on the goods delivered f. o. b. Vera Cruz. 
It is to be sent in equal monthly instalments, 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


3 ° 

and we shall pay in sixty days from receipt of 
goods. As to the standing of our house, you 
can easily find out about that.” 

“I can tell Mr. Norton without question 
that there is no better house,” Mr. Eyden 
interrupted. 

“I thank you,” said Mr. Crevecoeur. 
“Now if you care to submit a bid to me, I 
shall be very glad to consider it. When can 
you let me have it ? ” 

George thought for a moment. “I believe 
I can let you have it to-morrow morning.” 

“ Is n’t that too short a time ? ” Mr. Eyden 
questioned. 

“I don’t think so. I have at the hotel all 
the data that father formerly used in figuring 
his orders, and I can certainly try to do it, 
anyway.” 

“Very well,” said the foreign agent. “I 
shall expect to hear from you to-morrow.” 

As Crevecoeur left, Mr. Eyden spoke : “ Mr. 
Norton, I should like to have you go to the 
hotel and get all the papers which might bear 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


3i 

on the question of cost. Arrange them in such 
order that you can get what you want at a 
moment’s notice, and then come back here to 
my office at three o’clock.” 

“I am afraid you are taking too much of 
your time for my affairs,” said George. “I 
feel that I ought not to burden you any more.” 

“ That’s all right, my boy,” was the friendly 
reply. “ I ’m very glad to do it. I shall expect 
you at three.” 

George returned at that hour to find Mr. 
Eyden alone and ready for him. 

“Here is about where it stands,” said Mr. 
Eyden. “You have a pot-furnace, the older 
type of plant for making glass, which requires 
sodium carbonate, lime and fine sand to make 
the grade of glass you need, instead of your 
being able to use some less expensive sub- 
stitutes. You have to ship your goods to 
New York, and then reship them by ocean 
steamer to Vera Cruz. Now you need data 
on cost of your fuel, your labor, your deprecia- 
tion due to wear and tear, your incidentals, 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


32 

your interest on borrowed money and on the 
investment you have made, and last on raw 
materials and freight. Having those things, 
you can figure what price you can make to 
the Belgian.” 

“ I have all the necessary figures here except 
the cost of raw materials and freight,” said 
George. 

“I think I can give you those,” said the 
merchant. “ Let me see the amounts used in 
your glass.” 

“Here they are,” said George. “Here is 
the list — one hundred parts of sand, thirty- 
four of sodium carbonate, fifteen of calcium 
carbonate, and a trace of manganese dioxide.” 

“Your sodium carbonate, at its present 
price, is of course your heaviest expense,” 
remarked Mr. Eyden, thoughtfully. “And 
of that you have scarcely any.” 

“No,” replied George. “ Father let it 
almost run out. In some ways that is the 
strangest thing about our present condition. 
I cannot understand it.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


33 

Mr. Eyden pressed a bell, and a clerk 
entered. The merchant handed him George’s 
memorandum. 

“Get me figures which will show the lowest 
price at which we could figure a five years’ 
contract on these quantities, and also get rates 
on car-load lots of crated glass, New York to 
Vera Cruz.” 

The clerk nodded and withdrew. 

“Now, George,” said Mr. Eyden, “get 
everything down, and you can enter the other 
figures when they come.” 

The two had been working silently for an 
hour or two, when Mr. Eyden swung round in 
his chair. 

“ By the way, how about turning your stock 
in hand into money?” 

“Father tried every means in his power to 
do it,” said George, “but without success.” 

“Why didn’t we try Crevecceur?” Mr. 
Eyden exclaimed, and turned to his telephone 
again. “I’ll call him up at my club, where 
he is very likely to be at this time of day. 

3 


34 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“Give me Madison, 2420. Is this the City 
Club ? Will you see if Mr. Crevecceur, the 
gentleman introduced by Mr. Eyden, is in the 
club ? Yes, I’ll hold the line. Hello, Creve- 
cceur! This is Eyden. Would you consider 
buying some surplus stock of the Norton Com- 
pany at a greatly reduced figure ? All right, 
I understand. Much obliged. Good-by !” 

He turned to George. “Crevecoeur said he 
would consider it if you could get his contract, 
but probably not otherwise.” 

When the last figure was set down, Mr. 
Eyden pulled out his watch. “Suppose we 
go up to my club, and if we see Crevecceur 
there we will give him the figures to-night 
instead of in the morning.” 

They found the foreign agent and presented 
the figures. “No, not low enough/’ pro- 
nounced Crevecoeur. 

George’s face fell. Crevecceur examined 
the paper a moment longer. “What is it 
going to cost you to ship from New York to 
Vera Cruz ? ” he asked. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


35 


“Six dollars a ton.” 

“Make that difference in your figures and 
ril accept.” 

George looked at Mr. Eyden. 

“I don’t see how he can do it,” said the 
merchant. 

“Then I am afraid we cannot do anything,” 
was the reply. “I am very glad to have met 
you, Mr. Norton. I wish we might have done 
business together. Gentlemen, I am sorry to 
leave you so abruptly, but I have an appoint- 
ment.” 

They stood silent for a few seconds. “Wait 
a minute and let me think, Crevecceur,” said 
Mr. Eyden, looking at George’s despairing 
face. 


CHAPTER THREE 

All George’s brave anticipations had been 
shattered by the Belgian’s refusal. He waited 
for Mr. Eyden to speak, but the merchant’s 
set face showed the deep concentration of his 
thoughts. 

Suddenly Mr. Eyden brought his fist down 
on the table at which they sat. “ I have it!” 
he cried, triumphantly. “What we want is 
time. Crevecoeur, when do you leave ? ” 

“In just four weeks from to-day.” 

“Are you obliged to sign the contract be- 
fore that time?” 

“No, not absolutely.” 

“Well, then, give us till two days before you 
sail. I am asking this now as a personal 
favor.” 

Crevecoeur hesitated for a moment. “All 
right,” he said, “I ’ll do it.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 37 

He made his farewell. The merchant 
turned to George. 

“Now you’ll dine with me,” he said. 

“I’m afraid I can’t stay long enough for 
that, Mr. Eyden,” George replied, regret- 
fully. “I can just catch my train back 
home if I leave this minute, and I need every 
hour to find some way of getting through. I 
feel sure the key of it all is somewhere in the 
mill. Father had some means of lowering 
prices which nobody else knew of. There 
must be some record of it somewhere. I’ll 
write you the moment I find anything, and I 
thank you from my heart for all your kind- 
ness to me.” 

“All right, my boy, go ahead, and good 
luck go with you,” said Mr. Eyden. 

In the days that followed, George studied 
every paper and letter which he could find in 
the glass-house, but none revealed the secret 
which he sought. Then came an unexpected 
spur. 


38 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

He was in the laboratory one morning 
when a boy entered with a card : 

MR. WALTER GRAY. 

International Glass Company. 

George slowly returned to the office. As 
he entered, a prosperous-looking elderly man 
rose. 

“Mr. Norton,” he said, “I have really 
come down to offer the apologies of the com- 
pany. It came to my ears, through Mr. 
Barnard, that a young man from our office, 
a very new man, had come here and very 
greatly exceeded his instructions, had taken 
matters upon himself in a very unpleasant 
way, and, in short, had totally misrepresented 
us. I refer to Mr. Gilmartin, and I assure 
you he will never be called upon for such a 
service again.” 

George bowed as the visitor paused for a 
reply. 

“I am doubly sorry that this occurred,” 
continued Mr. Gray, “as I cannot bear to 
think of the really great error which you 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 39 
people are making in not accepting our offer. 
I should like very much to take the matter 
up again with you if you feel willing to 
do so.” 

“I don’t care to dispose of the factory, 
Mr. Gray. My mind is firmly made up on 
this subject, and I cannot see any other 
conclusion.” 

“Very well, I certainly shall trouble you no 
longer,” replied Mr. Gray, and he took his 
hat and started toward the door, stopping 
halfway to say, “We should be very glad 
to submit our offer of seventy-five thousand 
dollars in writing, should you prefer it.” 

George looked at him somewhat quizzically. 
“That is rather a jump in the offer, isn’t it ?” 

“Same one we made before,” said Gray. 

“Gilmartin’s was fifty thousand dollars.” 

Gray turned hurriedly and came back. 
“My dear Mr. Norton, what a mess that man 
made ! He had express instructions to offer 
seventy-five thousand dollars. I don’t won- 
der you refused fifty thousand dollars, but 


4 o FOR THE NORTON NAME 
really seventy-five thousand dollars is a fair 
price, and we are willing to give it. Now 
don’t you want to sit down and talk the busi- 
ness over a little ? ” 

"It’s not the slightest use for us to do 
that, Mr. Gray,” said George. “It would be 
nothing but a waste of time.” 

“Well, anyway, think it over, and write me 
some time next week. I am sure that when 
you discuss the matter with your legal ad- 
viser he will make you see things differently.” 

“I wonder what is behind that!” George 
muttered to himself as he watched the de- 
parting form of the representative of the 
I. G. C. “There must be some special rea- 
son why they want our plant. Perhaps it ’s 
connected with father’s secret.” 

That night George could not sleep. For a 
while he lay tossing with closed eyes, but 
finally, raising the curtain beside his bed, he 
stared out at the darkness of the valley be- 
low, which was lighted only where the glass 
roof of the factory showed a dull glow. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 41 

“Why is the combination so anxious to get 
the factory? Is there something my father 
knew that they know, and that makes our 
plant particularly desirable ?” 

These questions reiterated themselves in 
George’s mind. 

The clock in the hall below struck one, 
and with a sudden determination George 
leaped from his bed, relighted his lamp, and 
dressed rapidly. Then he proceeded down the 
creaking stairs into the silent kitchen, where 
his dog, roused from sleep, leaped upon him 
in exuberant greeting. George took a lan- 
tern from the shelf, lighted it, and went out 
with the dog into the stillness of the night. 

He passed down the driveway along the 
road, his lantern swinging circles of dim 
light, then through the silent village and into 
the main door of the factory. Leaving the 
dog in the office, he passed on, and started to 
make a careful review of every part of the 
process, to see if at any single point could be 
found the answer to the troubling question. 


42 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

Down the narrow stairs George descended, 
and stood for a while in the intense heat before 
the furnace door, watching the firemen bend- 
ing to their tasks. He stepped forward to ex- 
amine the great chute by which the coal was 
introduced below the fire, so that the fire 
might burn upon the top of the pile alone. 
George called the head fireman to him. 

“Do you know, 55 he said, “if this furnace 
differs at all from the usual form?” 

The man shook his head. “No, the idea 
is to keep all soot or smoke out of the open 
pots above. We feed the fuel from below 
because of that. It is a common form, I am 
sure.” 

“ Do you suppose you could do any better 
with fuel if you had the glass in closed pots 
instead of in open ones?” 

“No, it would take so much longer for 
them to heat up, and they would not do for 
our high quality of glass.” 

George saw no other possibility there, and 
again ascended the stairs and entered the 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 43 
mixing-room, where he watched the weigh- 
ing and mixing of the sand, the sodium car- 
bonate, and the calcium carbonate which 
went into the batch, as the mixture is called. 
He watched the grinding of the batch and 
shook his head. 

“ How about the silica in this sand ? Where 
did the last lot come from?” he asked the 
workman. 

“From Berkshire County, Massachusetts, 
as usual. There's over ninety-nine per cent 
of silica in it.” 

The batch was loaded on the car and taken 
to the waiting pot, and George followed it. 
The crane swung into place, and the work- 
men hastened to fill the pot, shoveling in 
with the batch a mixture of broken glass — 
“cullet,” as it is called. The workmen then 
stood back, ready to add more as soon as the 
lower portion had settled down. George 
waited here no longer; there was nothing 
new or unusual in this process, so he went on. 
The object of his quest must be elsewhere. 


44 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


He turned to the casting-table, where the 
melted glass from the pot had been poured, 
and where it now lay in a smooth layer, with 
the great iron roller flattening it down to its 
required thickness. George looked at the an- 
nealing furnace, which was ready to receive 
the plate when the rolling was finished. 
Again he called to a workman beside the 
furnace. 

“Do you ever have any serious trouble with 
your annealing furnace on account of brittle 
glass ?” 

“No,” replied the workman. “No trouble 
worth mentioning. To my mind it’s a ques- 
tion of leaving it in the furnace just the right 
number of days. We have an old furnace, 
but it works well.” 

George passed by the finishing-room, where 
the plate was receiving its first polishing with 
sand and iron rollers. He knew there was 
nothing there which could require attention, 
and he began a slow and deliberate exami- 
nation of the pots standing in a great circle 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 45 
about the floor and round the central open- 
ing, through which poured the flame and hot 
gases from the furnace. 

The yellow molten mass in the pots seethed 
with the terrific heat, and the whole glass- 
house seemed a gruesome place enough, but 
George trod the floor with a feeling of pride, 
and even with confidence. 

“There is something, I am sure,” he said, 
aloud. “If I don’t find it to-day, I will to- 
morrow.” 

“What’s that ?” said a passing workman. 

“Nothing,” said George. “I was just 
thinking aloud.” 

Two pots together at one side of the fur- 
nace, filled, but separate from the rest, drew 
his eyes. 

“What are you doing with those?” he 
said. 

“We are not running them now,” one of 
the men responded. “It was something Mr. 
Norton was interested in. He always kept 
those two pots for trying experiments, and he 


46 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

did all the work himself. Mr. Howes can 

probably tell you something about it.” 

George nodded and went on. The pot- 
room, where the pots were made, was locked, 
so George returned to the office and got the 
key. He took his lantern with him, and 
walked up and down in front of the row of 
pots building for future use. The pots were 
of every height, from the two-inch base of 
one just started to the full-grown pot five 
feet high, ready for the furnace. 

Up and down George paced, gazing at the 
pots, particularly at one pot standing at the 
end near the door. He had just stopped 
beside it when, to his utter amazement, he 
heard a loud : 

“Hands up !” 

His hands flew up rapidly, his lantern 
swinging and clashing as it rose. Again the 
loud voice, “Now what in crea — George, is 
that you?” Young Norton recognized the 
voice, now somewhat less strange, of Mr. 
Howes. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 47 

“Well,” he said calmly, “you gave me a 
scare that time.” 

“A scare!” cried Howes. “No worse 
than you gave me. I happened to wake up 
half an hour ago, and looked out of the win- 
dow and down to the mill. I have a habit of 
doing that to see if everything is all right, 
especially this last week, when the watchman 
has been sick, and here was a lantern ap- 
parently bobbing back and forth in a locked 
room for which I had the key. I had a sud- 
den fear that it might be those I. G. C. people 
come down to look over the factory, or per- 
haps to break the pots. So I grabbed my 
revolver and came down here on the jump.” 

“Well, Mr. Howes,” said George, “you 
did exactly right. Come over here a mo- 
ment,” he continued, leading him to the pot 
which he had been examining. “Do you 
suppose that we’ve any improvement or any 
possible improvement in the construction of 
the pots which the I. G. C. has not yet 
obtained ? The more I think of it, the more 


48 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
I feel that they are over anxious to obtain the 
plant. So I came down to-night to go through 
the factory piece by piece, and see if I could 
find just where the secret lies/’ 

Mr. Howes walked over to the pot, and 
stooped to gaze at the clay. After a moment 
he rose. 

“ You’ve got a quick eye, George. That is 
really the most unusual and most modern 
piece of work that we have. Your father had 
it made after a special design. It might be 
that there is something in that, but I have an 
impression that I have seen the idea some- 
where else. Let ’s go back to the office and 
look over some of the old trade journals.” 

The two turned and went back to the office. 
Mr. Howes took down from a shelf two big 
green-bound copies of the trade journal. He 
handed one to George and kept the other. 

“Mr. Howes,” said George, “as I under- 
stand it, the essential difference in that pot 
from the others lies in the differing construc- 
tion of the base.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


49 

He drew a little diagram to show his mean- 
ing. Mr. Howes bent over his shoulder and 
nodded. “Yes,” he said, “that is just the 
difference, although it beats me how you got 
it so quickly. It took me three weeks to get 
that through my head.” 

“Now,” said George, “let’s see what we 
can find here.” 

First came the index, in which every title- 
page that seemed to yield promise was ex- 
amined, every part glanced through without 
avail. Then began the turning of the big 
pages one by one. Finally Mr. Howes 
said: 

“Look here.” 

There was a diagram of the type for which 
they were looking. Evidently it had been 
omitted from the index. Over it was this 
heading: “New Type of Pot in Use by the 
International Glass Company.” 

There was a moment of surprise and dis- 
appointment. The two examined the de- 
scription, and found that the pot was not 


50 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
only in use, but had been brought out origi- 
nally by the International Glass Company, 
although they had not considered it an im- 
provement of sufficient consequence to have 
it patented. 

“ There is only one lead gone,” said George, 
not dismayed. “Now let’s turn to the next. 
Could it be fuel or power of any kind that 
they are after? I know well enough that 
there is no possibility of a hidden coal-mine 
existing on our property, but could they 
want power from our river? Is there any- 
thing in our water conditions which makes 
them anxious to obtain the factory, or do 
they want the water for something else they 
desire to do? I think I know the stream 
pretty well. I ’ve fished every foot of it, and 
it’s no size at all. I don’t believe there is 
anything in that.” 

“No,” said Mr. Howes, “I don’t believe 
they want that. Speaking of fuel, though, 
they might want our wood, yet I don’t see 
where there is wood enough to be of any 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 51 
consequence to them upon that farm your 
father bought a year or two ago.” 

“ Did n’t know he had bought any,” said 
George. 

“Why, yes. I supposed you knew that. It 
must have been when you were away at col- 
lege. The farm was up in the next county, 
and was going for a song, comparatively 
speaking, so your father bought it. We 
needed some wood at the time, and there was 
none any nearer; the pulp people had cut 
everything near us for pulp. It’s up about 
thirty miles from here.” 

“I never knew anything at all about it,” 
said George, shaking his head. 

“Well, it’s entered as a part of the com- 
pany’s property,” replied Mr. Howes, “but 
I don’t believe there is anything in that. The 
whole piece is n’t worth six thousand dollars, 
there’s so much water on it. Most of it is 
really a pond. The wood lies in a fringe all 
round the water.” 

The conference had lasted almost until five 


52 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
o’clock, and George especially, who had not 
slept, was beginning to feel the heavy weari- 
ness of one who has been up all night. But 
before he went back to the house he said : 

“Let’s go out and see to-night’s running.” 

A feeble light from the windows was al- 
ready struggling with that from the molten 
glass. George paced up and down slowly 
beside the pots, stopping at each. Finally 
he paused before the two he had noticed be- 
fore, which were separated from the rest. He 
called the superintendent. 

“Come here a moment. What is the mat- 
ter with this ? ” 

“That was an experiment of your father’s,” 
said Mr. Howes. “ I have n’t had time to 
fix it up yet. I don’t know what he did it for, 
but he had some sand brought down from the 
lake up in the wood-lot that I told you about, 
and used it with some other stuff in that vat. 
It was a complete failure, though ; it would n’t 
work at all — did various queer things. I 
don’t know what your father was driving at. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 53 
He was always a great hand at trying things, 
you know, and this was just another experi- 
ment.” 

“Have you ever been up to the wood-lot?” 

“Never. Never had a chance. In fact, I 
don’t know anybody here except your father 
who has been.” 

The superintendent turned away and be- 
gan to speak to one of the men, but George 
stood in the still increasing light, looking 
down into the pot. 

Suddenly his face brightened. 

“I may be wrong,” he said, “as I was 
before, but I believe the secret lies right there. 
I’m going to find out something about that 
wood-lot.” 


CHAPTER FOUR 

As Mr. Howes and George stepped to the 
door, the clear dawn had come and the sun 
was just rising over the hills across the valley. 

“Mr. Howes,” said George, “give me the 
clearest directions and map you can make 
for the country between here and that farm. 
I am going to take my automobile and go up 
to the wood-lot at once/’ 

“ But you have n’t had any sleep.” 

“Never mind that. There’s no time to 
spare. We can’t lose a day now if we are to 
get the Mexican contract.” 

From the roads that he knew well, George 
drove his runabout into quiet country lanes. 
It was impossible to go very fast. After the 
first few miles he was forced to stop often 
and inquire his way. Wherever two cross- 
roads met and there was no one about, he 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 55 
took out the map roughly prepared for him 
by Mr. Howes, and trusted to that. At 
twelve o’clock he stopped to eat his luncheon, 
and at two he reached the boundary of the 
old farm. He recognized the entrance by a 
huge stone on one side and by three big 
maples on the other. He got down and 
looked at the maples, and saw on one of 
them his father’s initials cut in the bark. 
Evidently he had reached his journey’s 
end. 

Reentering the carriage, he started slowly 
up the old driveway. Half-overgrown as it 
was, there was yet room for passage, and 
from one knoll which he ascended he saw 
ahead the shining waters of the pond. 

Just below the knoll the road bent at an 
angle. With a cry of surprise, George threw 
his reverse lever sharply to stop the car. 
Right across the road a rough barricade of 
brush had been placed. Just beyond this 
barrier stood a rude hut, from the stovepipe 
chimney of which smoke was emerging. 


56 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

For a moment the young man sat speech- 
less at the sight, but only for a moment. Then 
he jumped from the carriage, walked to the 
slab door, and rapped loudly. A big country- 
man came and looked out at him. George 
began sharply: 

“Probably you don’t know that you are 
living on my land ? ” 

A wide grin spread over the other man’s 
face. 

“I guess not, young feller.” 

“Well, you are!” responded George, de- 
cidedly. “This land belongs to the Norton 
mill, which I own. I don’t mind your being 
here temporarily, but I must object to any 
permanent settlement on the land without my 
consent.” 

“Oh, I guess I’ve got more right here 
legally than you have!” drawled the big 
fellow. “This land don’t belong to you any 
longer. I’m a deputy sheriff, and I’m here 
by order of the court. I’ve got papers to 
prove it.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


57 

“ I ’d like to see any papers you have,” 
said George. 

“Nothing easier.” 

The big rustic stepped back into the house, 
got his coat, and from his pocket drew a writ 
which showed that an attachment had been 
levied upon the land by Arley & Bateson, 
coal merchants of Woolverton. The writ 
went on to state that it was levied to obtain 
certain money owed by the Norton Com- 
pany for coal bought the year before. 

George read it in amazement. 

“There’s some mistake here!” he ex- 
claimed angrily. “I don’t believe we owe 
any bill of this sort. You have no right to 
put an attachment on our land for this. Why 
have they attached this land instead of at- 
taching the factory? There’s something 
queer here. You ’ve made some mistake.” 

While he spoke, the deputy sheriff watched 
him idly. “No, there ain’t any mistake. 
This land belonged to the Norton Glass 
Company, didn’t it?” 


58 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“Yes” 

“Well, you see this bill was made out to 
the Norton Glass Company,” said the officer 
of the law, “and that ’s all there is to it.” 

“I won’t stand for this!” cried George. 

The deputy sheriff grinned. He seemed 
greatly amused. “What are you going to do 
about it, young feller ? ” 

“Can’t do anything now. But I guess I’ll 
run down to take a look at the pond and come 
back again.” 

“You can’t do it,” said the deputy sheriff. 
“You turn round and get out of this as quick 
as you can. I ’m not going to allow you to 
enter. It ’s expressly against orders for you 
to enter this place while I hold a writ of 
attachment on it. You just turn that ma- 
chine of yours round and get out!” 

George looked at the man, and then with- 
out a word turned and started toward the 
pond. 

The deputy sheriff picked up a gun from 
the floor, and in two steps was beside him. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 59 
“Now see here, I ’m armed and you’re not. 
I could hold you back by one hand if I had 
to. I ’m an officer of the law. It ’s no use ; 
you get out and get out quick! That’s all 
there is to it. Now be sensible.” 

A sudden thought flashed across George’s 
brain. “All right,” he said. 

He backed the carriage round, and the 
deputy sheriff watched him depart. Once 
back on the road, George pulled out the map 
which his father had drawn of the place, and 
which had been handed to him with other 
papers by Mr. Howes. Pictured there he saw 
another road, which led to the lake, and which 
entered nearly opposite to that by which he 
had entered. He folded the map and started 
round for the other entrance. 

Through a lane three or four miles long he 
passed, through rugged cart-roads and nar- 
row wood-paths. In many places the trees 
were so low that he had to get out and hold 
them up in order to force his car beneath, 
but fortunately all the ways were passable. 


6o 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


The little car responded bravely, but the sun 
was well on its downward path as he entered 
the road on the other side and came toward 
the lake. 

George heaved a sigh of relief as he saw 
how near he was to the water, with the sun 
not yet gone down. He still had light enough, 
and the darkness on his return would not 
trouble him, for he had good lanterns. 

He was scarcely a hundred yards from the 
lake when a big figure rose from the side of 
the road. George looked, and looked again. 
It was the deputy sheriff. 

“Not quite smart enough,” he said, with 
one of his exasperating grins. “I thought 
I’d take a little walk over here with my gun, 
so if you did have a liking to do what you 
ought not to, you would n’t have the chance.” 

George was thoroughly fagged and worn 
by this time. He had not slept for thirty-six 
hours. He had been using his brain hard 
during that time, and at this unexpected ob- 
stacle his patience gave way with a snap. He 


Stop that wheel ! ” shouted the sheriff. 


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FOR THE NORTON NAME 61 
drew the lever to the full and gritted his teeth 
as he started on. 

If necessary, he was ready to run the big 
fellow down. He was bound to get through 
to the pond at any cost. The more he was 
kept from it, the more determined he was to 
reach it, and find out what strange thing 
might be in its waters. 

The machine bounded forward at the start, 
but a moment later the foremost wheel fell 
into a deep crevice, and the car stuck fast, the 
wheels spinning uselessly and the body rack- 
ing itself from side to side with the motion. 
The deputy sheriff jumped forward beside 
the car, clutching his shotgun. 

“Stop that wheel !” shouted the sheriff. 

A shotgun is a most powerful argument, and 
George, despite the hot blood in his brain, 
was not ready to take the chances. Sullenly 
he threw the lever and stopped the car. 

“Now, young man,” ordered the sheriff, 
sharply, “you’ve made me trouble enough 
to-day. Turn your car round and go home ! ” 


62 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“ Suppose I won’t do it?” said George, 
obstinately. 

“If you don’t, I ’ll arrest you and jail you 
for obstructing an officer of the law in the per- 
formance of his duty,” said the sheriff. “I’m 
not going to be bothered with you any longer. 
Turn that car round, I say!” 

There was nothing to do but comply, and 
George turned the car and started back, 
weary and sore because of this utterly un- 
foreseen accident. 

“You might as well take me as far as you 
go,” said the sheriff, and George, with a 
gloomy face, stopped the car to take him in. 

For the first half-mile neither spoke, and 
then George had gained control of himself. 
He slowed the car and thought fast and hard. 
The deputy had quite forgotten his wrath, 
and seemed to be enjoying himself. Appar- 
ently an automobile ride was a new experi- 
ence for him. He gazed at everything about 
the car with the greatest interest. He began 
to ask questions, and at George’s cheerful 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 63 
answers, he soon thawed appreciably. They 
were halfway out when George remarked 
pleasantly to his companion: 

“Well, you surely had me that time. That 
was a bright move. How did you happen to 
think of it?” 

“Oh, they told me there were two ways of 
coming in, and that if you tried one without 
success, you might try the other.” 

“Must have been pretty lonely staying 
here.” 

“I haven’t been here very long. Only 
about five weeks.” 

“How did you find your way? It is an 
unknown part of the country.” 

By this time the sheriff was getting into a 
loquacious mood. His natural sphere of ac- 
tivity was the village store, where men love 
better to be among the talkers than among 
the listeners. Evidently five weeks of en- 
forced silence had made him only too glad to 
embrace the opportunity of talking to some 
human being. 


64 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“There was a young feller who came up 
with me,” he said, “who showed me the way 
all through. He was up in these parts nosing 
around some months ago, so he knew it all. 
He was a nice young feller. I guess he’d been 
to college. He knew a lot about rocks and 
that kind of thing. You know, he ’d look at 
land on the way up, just ordinary hollers 
and hills, and he’d say that thousands of 
years ago, way before anybody lived on earth, 
a landslip or something had happened there. 
Now I call that the most curious thing I 
ever heard. I don’t know whether he was 
lying, just for fun, trying to fool me, or 
whether he believed it himself. I am in- 
clined to think that he believed it himself. 
Do you think that anybody could know 
those things?” 

“Why, yes,” said George, “a man who 
understood geology could tell that, but I ’ve 
always understood that there was no mineral 
wealth here at all. I don’t see why he came 
up here.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 65 

A sudden light now came to George as he 
spoke. 

“I suppose you know the people who put 
the attachment on ?” he said. 

“Oh, I didn’t come from the coal men,” 
said the sheriff. “A lawyer came up here to 
serve the writ, and he was a funny customer 
too.” 

Of a sudden the source of information 
stopped. A look of fright passed over the 
countryman’s face. It seemed as if he was 
just going to relate something which he had 
been warned not to tell. Apparently he sud- 
denly remembered an injunction not to talk. 
He turned angrily to George, and said : 

“Now see here, young feller, you’re not 
going to pump me! I sha’n’t tell you any- 
thing. I’m altogether within my rights. 
I ’m doing a legal thing, and you are messing 
in things which don’t have anything to do 
with you at all. You need n’t try to get any- 
thing more out of me.” And the sheriff shut 
up tight as a drum. 


s 


66 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


George expended all his arts of conversa- 
tion on the now silent man in vain. He was 
not able to get another word from him con- 
cerning the attachment. On they travelled 
until they came to a cross-road, where the 
deputy sheriff left him. 

The journey home seemed shorter than the 
journey up, despite the darkness, for the 
possibilities behind the day’s happenings 
were so many that George, weary as he 
was, could not stop the constant endeavor 
to work out the problem. 

Reaching home, he did not stop, but ran 
twelve miles farther on to Nixon, where Mr. 
Barnard lived. He found the lawyer peace- 
fully reading his paper beside the evening 
lamp. 

“Mr. Barnard! Mr. Barnard!” George 
called in excitement as he entered. “There 
is something queer about that wood-lot that 
father bought last year. I went up there to- 
day, and found that an attachment had been 
placed on it on account of an old coal bill 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 67 
which I feel sure we must have paid. They 
have a deputy sheriff up there, and he 
would n’t let me go near the lake. There has 
been a geologist up there, too. Father had 
some stuff from the wood-lot which he was 
trying in the factory just before his death, 
and I think he must have discovered some- 
thing of great value. Every hour tells if we 
are to get the Mexican contract, and we 
must strain every nerve to obtain it. We 
must get through and find out what is in the 
lake. Will you go to work on the attachment 
at once ? I believe I ’m on the track of the 
secret at last. What do you think made the 
deputy sheriff act as he did ?” 

He paused, breathless. Mr. Barnard took 
off his glasses, closed them, put them into the 
case and snapped it with a click. 

“Well, George, as to the deputy sheriff, 
I ’m not much surprised at his action. These 
country officials often have queer ideas about 
their duties.” He stopped and snapped his 
spectacle-case energetically. “I really be- 


68 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
lieve there may be something in that wood- 
lot idea. I had forgotten all about its exist- 
ence myself. I ’ll get to work the first thing 
in the morning, and the minute we get the 
attachment off we’ll run that matter down.” 


CHAPTER FIVE 

TWO days later George was sitting in the 
office, looking over the morning mail, when 
Mr. Barnard entered. 

“I have that all straightened out,” he said. 
“The attachment didn’t hold for a minute. 
It was based on an old bill concerning which 
there was a dispute. Your father had paid all 
that was really due. It was such a put-up job 
from start to finish that I can’t see why any 
writ should ever have been issued. What’s 
your next move ? ” 

“ Back to the wood-lot,” answered George. 
“With the proper papers, I’ll get by the 
deputy sheriff all right. Since he is really an 
officer of the law, I feel sure that he will make 
no trouble for me once he sees the writ is dis- 
charged. Or better still, will you go with 


70 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

Mr. Barnard hesitated. “No, I don’t be- 
lieve I can, but I ’ll give you all the papers, and 
I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. If you 
want to wait until to-morrow I can go with 
you.” 

George shook his head. “ I don’t think I ’d 
better wait. We have none too much time. 
Crevecoeur will be leaving so soon that I 
ought not to lose a day.” 

He started in his runabout at ten o’clock, 
and had gone perhaps twelve miles at pretty 
nearly top speed, when directly across his 
path stepped a farmer, who held up his hand. 
George slowed down and stopped. The man 
threw open his coat and showed a silver star. 

“I arrest you for overspeeding!” 

George turned and looked down the road. 
A second man was running up behind him. 

“Can’t run any race around here!” ex- 
claimed the constable. 

“I’m not running a race.” 

“I suppose you are just going on a walk,” 
said the constable. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 71 

“No, I’m going at a fair rate of speed.” 

“We’ll see what the justice has to say about 
it. Come on, Cyrus, jump in here and take 
this fellow down to the judge!” 

George inwardly raged. The captors took 
their victim to the nearest dispenser of the law, 
whom they found chopping fodder in his barn. 

“Here’s a case of overspeeding,” said the 
constable. 

The judge turned from his chopping- 
machine and looked at George over his 
spectacles. 

“Guilty or not guilty, young man?” 

George hesitated. If he said “Guilty,” the 
thing would be ended then and there with 
a fine. If he said “Not guilty,” it would go 
on. Besides, he felt that the charge was true, 
and so he pleaded guilty, apparently very 
much to the surprise of all three. 

“Ten dollars and costs, fourteen fifty in 
all,” the judge decided. 

Fortunately, George had the money with 
him. As he paid it, he said to the constable : 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


72 

“You don’t keep a watch like that all the 
time, do you ? How did you happen to be on 
hand?” 

“Well,” said the constable, “we knew you 
were coming either to-day or to-morrow.” 

“How did you know?” 

“There was a fellow who came down here 
from up above, and he told us that you’ve 
been running a race against time up through 
these roads, and you would be here to-day or 
to-morrow. Described your car and every- 
thing.” 

“What kind of a chap was he?” 

“Oh, he was — ” began the constable, who 
suddenly stopped short and turned on the 
man who had aided in the capture. 

“Quit your punching me!” he said. The 
other man looked sheepish, and a sudden com- 
prehension took the constable. He turned to 
George. 

“Oh, I wasn’t to say anything about 
that fellow. Don’t tell anybody I told, will 
you?” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 73 

“I won’t,” George answered. “ Anyway, 
I’ll hope for better luck next time.” 

For a mile after that everything went easily. 
Suddenly the car began to jounce, and then 
came the sudden springless feeling of a 
punctured tire. Not only one, but two of 
his front tires gave way. Following that, 
one of his rear ones began to show signs of 
flabbiness. 

George stopped the car, got out and ex- 
amined it with a rueful face. He walked 
back a few rods. There in the deep shadow of 
a cutting in the road was a mass of broken 
glass extending from one side of the road to 
the other. 

George looked at his watch. It was three 
o’clock. He bent to examine the cyclometer 
on the runabout. He had fifteen miles more to 
go, and no means of repairing the tires. 

George stood silent. Then he climbed into 
the car and slowly ran it ahead on its punc- 
tured tires. Just beyond the cutting a little 
farmhouse stood well back from the road. 


74 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
There he turned and stopped. A woman met 
him at the door. 

“My automobile has broken down,” said 
George, “and I want to leave it here until I 
can come back and fix it. I have n’t anything 
with which to repair it.” 

“All right,” said the woman. “I don’t 
think my husband will object if you put it 
into the shed.” 

George ran the machine under cover and 
stood beside it, thinking. 

“There were only four weeks in the first 
place,” he soliloquized. “Three weeks and a 
half of that have gone, and after four days 
more we lose the Mexican contract. If I go 
back to the factory now and lose another 
day, who knows what may happen to me to- 
morrow ! The only thing for me to do is to go 
forward, and I’d better plan to go to the lake 
on foot.” As he talked to himself, a bit of 
broken glass that had been thrown into the 
wagon met his eye, and he gazed at it fixedly. 

“I don’t know about the glass,” he thought. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 75 
“ There’s something mighty funny about this 
whole business. First, there’s the deputy 
sheriff, who refuses to let me get to the pond. 
Second, there’s the trap for overspeeding; and 
third, there ’s the broken glass. If I could only 
get hold of something definite I should know 
what to do.” He stopped short for a second, 
and then brought down his fist with a bang. 

“I’ll fool them,” he declared to himself. 
“I’ll double on my trail. That’s the thing to 
draw them if anybody is watching for me. I 
shall probably have to spend the night out, 
but I don’t believe that, with the rug from 
the automobile, I shall mind it very much. 
Fortunately, it is not very cold to-night.” 

The day had come out warm, and the roads 
had the dry softness that one sometimes finds 
in the North on a November day. Making a 
little pack of his rug and his overcoat, George 
went to the house and asked the woman if she 
could let him have some luncheon. She made 
him up a package of bread and meat, for 
which she refused pay. The gift, however, 


76 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
was well spiced with questions of every con- 
ceivable sort regarding the automobile, the 
breakdown, and the purpose of the journey. 
George made evasive answers. 

Retracing his steps down the road about a 
quarter of a mile, he came to a wooded knoll 
topped by an old stone wall. It seemed a 
favorable place for his purpose. Climbing 
the sharp slope, he hid behind the wall and 
spread his rug for a couch. He had lain there 
for perhaps half an hour when he heard the 
sound of wheels in the direction from which he 
had come, and soon a Concord wagon passed 
containing two men, neither of whom he had 
seen before. Two speeches reached him. 

“He’s gone home now. We might just 
as well go back. There’s nothin’ left for us 
to do.” 

“All right. I guess that’s just as well. I 
s’pose we ought to follow him home, but I 
don’t believe it’s worth while. We can’t do 
anythin’ now, and I want to get back to the 
farm.” 



A wagon passed containing two men, neither of whom he had 
seen before. 


Page 76 






























































































FOR THE NORTON NAME 77 

With a puzzled face, George lay for some 
minutes debating whether the strangers’ 
words did or did not refer to him. But there 
seemed, at any rate, to be but one thing to do. 
Night was setting in, and it would be hard 
enough to reach the lake, carefully as he had 
observed the wood paths the day before. 
Fortunately he met with no obstacle to his 
progress. He pushed on until a little past six, 
when he came to the last point on the dark 
road of which he could be sure. He deter- 
mined to wait there until morning before 
going farther. 

Near a wayside spring he made his 
bivouac for the night, eating his cold bread 
and meat and drinking cold water with no 
small contentment. Save for the soft mur- 
mur of the trees, the night was still, and 
drowsiness soon overtook him. 

Before the first dawn, George was awake. 
He ate another cold breakfast exactly like the 
supper of the night before, and started on. 
Morning had come before he had reached the 


78 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
pond. He did not enter by either of the 
roads, but tried to cut across between the 
two, in case any one should be there. Coming 
through the wood, he entered the lower road 
just at the point where he had stopped on his 
previous visit. 

Something yellow in the road attracted his 
notice. It was the collapsible pail of his 
carriage. He had put it in front of the 
machine so that he might fill the radiators 
with water from the lake, and when the sheriff 
got into the carriage it must have dropped at 
one side. He went on, and in ten minutes 
more came out upon the shore. 

The lake spread before him, its ripples 
sending back the morning sun. But the shore 
of the lake caused George to stare with won- 
der. It was absolutely unlike any shore he 
had seen before. All about the lake was a 
white crust not unlike that bordering of frost 
and ice that forms along the margin of the 
winter sea. But this seemed whiter and more 
powdery. He stopped and picked up some of 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


79 

it. It was not snow or ice, it was a slightly 
dirty white powder. 

“ What is this ? Where can it come from ? ” 
he said to himself. 

He took some water and washed his hands 
and face with it. It felt strange. There was 
evidently something about this lake which 
was different from other lakes. He stood 
thinking it over in the loneliness of the early 
morning. 

“One thing is sure, anyway/’ he decided. 
“I must get some samples both of the crust 
and of the water.” He turned back and found 
his pail, reached out as far as he could, filled 
it with water, and then broke several pieces 
of the powdery crust from different points on 
the shore. Then he began to pace round the 
lake to find its size. 

But he had hardly started when, hearing a 
noise on the road, he stopped and listened. 
It was the sound of wheels and of the voices of 
men. George leaped into the shelter of a pine, 
and peering out, saw the two men who had 


8o 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


passed him the night before coming down 
toward the shore. 

Noiselessly he began to steal away from the 
dangerous proximity of the lake, but he had 
gone scarcely five yards when his foot slipped 
and he fell, carrying with him in his downfall 
the sample of water which he had taken from 
the lake, and dropping most of his other sam- 
ples. The noise made by his fall was sufficient 
to attract the notice of the men on the shore, 
one of whom asked: 

“What was that?” 

“Just some animal in the bushes,” the 
other replied. “I’ll go araound to the other 
entrance and you stay here, and between us, 
we can command the whole thing. I guess it 
will be as well if we stay here, so as to make 
sure that young Norton don’t reach the pond 
to-day.” 

“What are you goin’ to do with him if you 
get him ? ” 

“ Oh, I ’ll take him out f ’r a little visit to 
my farm and keep him there for a week. It’s 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 81 
not legal, I know, but it’s all right. They 
gave me general instructions to look out f’r 
him, and if I have n’t any definite authority 
as to how to act, I ’m goin’ ahead as I think 
best.” 

“All right, Abner,” responded the other. 
“I don’t see no harm in that, anyway.” 

To George’s great regret, the conversation 
stopped. He had hoped to learn the whole 
plot, but evidently these men were only subor- 
dinates, who were taking things into their own 
hands. There was some power higher up. 
He hoped for a renewal of the conversation, 
but was disappointed. 

The two men descended from the wagon, 
and the younger started into the bushes a little 
way to tie the horse outside of the main road. 
He started straight for George, who was lying 
just where he had fallen, but luckily when he 
saw the man turn toward him he had time to 
roll over behind a fallen log. 

Having hitched the horse, the guard went 

back, and after a moment’s conversation with 
6 


82 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


his companion, which George could not hear, 
the two separated, the older man going to the 
other side of the lake, and the younger sitting 
quietly on the shore just to one side of 
George’s place of concealment. 

Now that the nervous tension of listening to 
the two men had ceased, George began to be 
aware of a throbbing pain in his knee. It was 
evidently strained, and yet it was essential 
that he should get away from his dangerous 
position as soon as possible. He began work- 
ing his way back to the road. He had not 
gone ten feet when the man, hearing a sound, 
rose and looked directly toward him. Fortu- 
nately the thick brush concealed him, and the 
lazy guard sat down once more. 

With an inward sigh of relief the lad 
began his stealthy advance once more. Foot 
by foot he progressed and the danger zone 
was almost passed when a twig beneath his 
foot snapped with a sound like a pistol shot. 


CHAPTER SIX 

Silently and rapidly George moved 
away from the spot where the unlucky twig 
had snapped. He looked back once and saw 
the two men standing with heads bent for- 
ward in an attitude of tense attention. He 
paused for a moment and then started on 
again. He looked back a second time to 
see the two hurrying directly towards him, 
the stout man a trace behind. They were 
coming so swiftly that further concealment 
was impossible. There was nothing to do 
but to make a run for it. 

Without further delay George tightened 
his belt, stooped and started off. He could 
not rid himself of his coat for the pre- 
cious samples filled the pockets. Scarcely 
five yards had been covered when the men, 
spurred on by the sound of his footsteps, 
came in sight of him, and George, as he heard 


84 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
their clamorous “Stop! Stop!” smiled a 
little grimly, wasting no breath on useless 
words. There was a clear half mile of up- 
hill going ahead of him on the land sloping 
upward from the lake, — a gentle enough in- 
cline, to be sure, but a tax on any cross-coun- 
try runner, especially on one who was not 
in the best of training. 

The second George heard his pursuers 
shouting their discovery he had turned 
sharply towards the wood road. In the 
woods, with the persistent obstacles of the 
underbrush, the trained and the untrained 
runner would be too much on a parity. On 
a road, even on such a rough trail as this, 
his old training in cross-country work might 
stand him in good stead. 

As the lad leaped the bank and landed 
on the trail he had a lead of some fifty yards 
on his pursuers. Above the light fall of his 
own footsteps he could hear loud puffing 
in the rear and the noise of a stumbling in 
the bushes. Evidently one of his followers 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 85 
at least was in no condition for a stern chase. 
Despite the necessity for haste George threw 
one rapid glance behind him and saw the 
stout man wading helplessly in the briers 
beside the road, a hundred yards in the 
rear. Fifty yards away, however, came the 
younger and slighter man of the two, evinc- 
ing even in that momentary glimpse an ease 
of motion which showed the practised runner. 
George had seen enough. He settled down 
to his work, trusting to his ears to tell him 
when he must sprint. 

By the time they were three quarters of 
the way up the slope George’s wind began 
to fail, and it was only with mouth half open 
and with lips drawn tightly back over his 
teeth that he could drive himself on. His 
second wind had come and gone. Hampered 
by his heavy boots and clothing, the killing 
pace and the upward slope were proving 
too much for him. He looked over his 
shoulder again to see the fellow behind him 
doggedly hanging to his distance and ex- 


86 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
hibiting few signs of distress. There seemed 
little chance of winning by any sudden burst 
of speed. Head work was the only thing that 
could gain a victory now. 

Just at that point the wood road swung 
sharply to the left, where a few low trees, 
clumping themselves in a sharp-angled cor- 
ner, cut off the view beyond. Just op- 
posite was a heap of boulders. There was 
scarcely room for a wagon to pass. As 
George approached the bend he instinctively 
slackened speed to keep from plunging 
against the rocks as he turned. 

“ He ’ll have to do the same,” he muttered 
to himself. “He can’t swing that bend at 
any higher speed than I can. It’s lucky 
there’s only one of them. I ought to be able 
to settle him.” 

As he spoke there flashed through his 
mind Van Bibber’s first and only rule for 
a street fight, “Hit first,” and George acted 
on his thought with the utmost rapidity. 
He had already diminished his speed. He 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 87 
slowed still more as he turned, swung round 
beside the clump of spear-like trees and 
stopped dead. Choosing a place where he 
had firm ground under his feet he balanced 
himself on his toes and crouched. At first 
the only sounds he could hear were the 
sharp caw of a crow sailing lazily through 
the gray sky overhead and the tuneless rusty 
creak of a blue jay across the road. Then 
into the stillness of the wood came first the 
sound of steadily running feet, then the 
sharp intake and outgo of a runner’s breath, 
and then — the slender pursuer rounded 
the bend. As he swung he turned on a wide 
arc of a circle, his eyes intent on the rocks 
before him. George, who had had time to 
gain his equilibrium, launched himself just 
as the man passed the boulders and tackled 
him just below the knees. His pursuer went 
down face foremost with but a single cry 
and George was on top of him like a flash. 

“Now,” muttered George through clenched 
teeth, “you lie still.” The possibilities of 


88 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


effective remonstrance when one is lying 
face downward in the autumn mold and 
being pressed into that mold by the weight 
of a hundred-and-sixty-pound youth are 
limited in the extreme, but the farm hand 
did his best. He squirmed and struggled, 
giving utterance all the while to a series 
of muffled ejaculations and remonstrances. 
George ransacked his pockets for something 
with which to bind his captive. The time 
was short enough. The other man might 
be along at any minute. Instant action was 
a necessity. George plunged his hand into 
pocket after pocket only to run it into samples 
of the powder from the lake. He had finally 
turned to his belt as the only possibility when 
a sudden squirm of the man below him threw 
an end of stout line out on to the ground. 
George seized it gleefully and pulled. Several 
feet of strong cord appeared. 

“Now, my young friend,” said George sar- 
castically, “this cord which was meant for 
me will do excellently for you. I don’t be- 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 89 
lieve in this sort of thing ordinarily, but I ’ve 
got to do something to stop you right here/’ 
A minute for the feet and a minute for the 
hands were all that were needed before 
George dragged the still resisting man to the 
side of the road. 

“You’ll be sorry for this,” were the only 
words that the captive spoke as George 
started to rise. 

“I’ll take my chances,” said George, 
glancing back for a last time at the corner 
beyond the man lying beside the path. That 
one glance was fatal. The man on the ground 
made a quick turn, throwing himself against 
George’s feet. Taken quite unaware the 
lad slipped, made a wild grasp at the air, 
and, falling, struck sharply on his head. He 
knew no more. 

George woke from a dream of falling, 
falling through abysses of darkness. He 
had dreamed that he was cased in a suit of 
mediaeval armor which held him hand and 
foot and which pressed horribly on the back 


QO FOR THE NORTON NAME 
of his head. He woke into a reality which 
appeared not greatly different from the 
dream. George lay with his eyes closed for 
a moment, trying to adjust the real and the 
dream conditions. His head hurt wretchedly 
where the helmet had pressed on it, but 
somehow the helmet did not appear to go 
all the way around and it was not quite like 
iron on the back of his head. There was 
something there that seemed more like 
gravel. It moved when his head moved. 
But his feet and hands were still in the 
armor. He tried to lift them and found he 
could not. They seemed to stick together. 
He was in motion, but it was forward mo- 
tion, not downward motion. Consciousness 
pushed back the curtain of unconsciousness a 
little farther and George half opened his eyes. 
He could see nothing. There was some sort 
of a curtain above his face, so he listlessly 
relapsed into a dreamy contemplation only 
to be roused from his lethargy by the sound 
of a rough voice ordering, “ Gid ap there.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 91 

George opened his eyes fully and reso- 
lutely at that sound and began to take stock 
of his surroundings. His attempt to sort 
out facts from dream fancies resulted in 
several amazing discoveries. He was bound 
hand and foot. His throbbing head was 
resting on a yielding substance like a bag 
of corn. Above him was a woolen blanket, 
apparently a new horse blanket. He could 
smell the fresh woolen smell. He was lying 
at the bottom of a wagon which was jolting 
rapidly along over country roads. Adding 
that amount of knowledge to the memory 
of the fall and of the wagon which the two 
men possessed, it was not hard for George 
to figure out that he was in the hands of his 
enemies. 

The first instinct of any prisoner is to get 
rid of his bonds, and George was no excep- 
tion to the general rule. His hands were 
bound before him, and with carefully con- 
sidered movements he began to try to pull 
them through the cord which bound his 


92 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
wrists and which was already cutting into 
his flesh. The blanket under which he lay 
had been draped in part over the high side 
boards of the wagon, so that his movements 
were freer on that account. 

More than once George had watched with 
wonder and envy the vaudeville performers 
who rid themselves with careless ease of 
loads of handcuffs and pounds of leg irons 
and who escaped from webs of closely drawn 
clothesline as if they had been bound with 
tissue paper. He soon found that a practical 
attempt to follow their example was no easy 
matter. Try as he might to bring his knuckles 
together, to swell his wrists and then suddenly 
loosen them, to bring his thumb under sub- 
jection, every effort that he made to reduce 
the size of his hands and slip them through 
the encircling cord was in vain. At length, 
spent with trying, he ceased and lay still 
while the wagon jolted heavily onward. 

To raise his hands to his mouth was an 
easy matter, and, given time, George felt 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 93 
that he could gnaw the ropes apart, but there 
were certain advantages in keeping still. 
At any moment a wagon might pass, and 
George was resolved to risk all on a cry for 
help to any passer-by. But little prospect of 
meeting any one had appeared as yet, how- 
ever. The only sounds which came to the 
lad’s ears through the woolen covering were 
the beat of the horse’s feet, the rattle of the 
wagon, and the sound of the sweeping autumn 
wind in the trees beside the road. The man 
who was driving kept silence save for an oc- 
casional word of encouragement to his slow 
moving steed. 

Deciding upon instant action George with 
a quick movement brought his bound hands 
up to his mouth, raising the blanket as he 
swung, and paused to see if he was observed. 
There was no sound. So far so good. The 
cord felt strangely to his teeth as he bit it, 
and it took but a few moments to make his 
dawning suspicion a certainty. He was 
bound with insulated copper wire, wire 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


94 

which was covered with cloth. His teeth 
met sharply on the metal with a dishearten- 
ing scrape. 

“One more thing to try,” thought George. 
“ Let’s see if they’ve done as good a job on 
my feet.” 

They had. Try as he would George could 
not slip one foot past the other, and as he 
tried he became conscious that in his fall he 
must have injured his leg as well as his head. 

“ Anyhow,” said George cheerfully to an 
imaginary audience, “I’m going to have a 
look out on the world. I can chew my way 
through this blanket and get a peephole if I 
can’t free myself and settle that pair of ras- 
cals. As long as I’ve got to do it it’s some 
satisfaction that the blanket’s a new one.” 

The blanket proved a less unpleasant 
proposition than George had feared. His 
head resting on the bag of corn was just too 
low to reach the covering with his mouth, 
but raising his bound hands to draw it 
slightly down brought it within reach, and 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


95 

he set manfully to work. Little by little the 
fabric gave. More and more light began to 
show through the space which he attacked 
until, after a final assault, he slipped down to 
a place where he could look through and gaze 
out once more on the outer world. No very 
favorable spectacle met his eyes. Straight 
before him on the seat of the wagon sat the 
two men who had pursued him. The stouter 
one, slouched down into his seat, was driv- 
ing carelessly. The younger one, with a 
handkerchief bound around his head under 
his black slouch hat, was sitting with his 
hands in his side pockets and his coat collar 
turned up. The road over which they were 
travelling was evidently but little used, for 
the men were forced again and again to bend 
from side to side to escape the branches 
whipping in their faces. The sky had grown 
leaden and prophesied a coming rain. 

George’s survey of his surroundings ended 
where they had begun, with an intense scru- 
tiny of the men on the seat before him. 


g6 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
The bandage round his competitor’s head 
amazed him more than anything else. 

“What is his head tied up for?” solilo- 
quized George. “ He went down face foremost 
in the soft mold of the wood road. He 
could n’t have been seriously hurt.” He was 
still engaged in consideration of that problem 
when the driver spoke to his companion. 

“Somebody cornin’?” 

The younger man listened intently. 

“Seems like the sound of a team to me. 
What you goin’ to do about him?” throwing 
a significant thumb backward. 

“Oh, he’s dead to the world for an hour 
yet,” said the elder man. “I’ve seen ’em 
that way too often not to know; besides, 
whoever ’s cornin’, he’s on the other slope 
and we’ll see him quarter of a mile off when 
we come over the ridge.” 

George’s heart beat wildly in anticipation, 
though he could not hear the sounds the 
men had mentioned. Almost any passer-by 
would be a means of deliverance. Few peo- 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 97 
pie would dare to take part in a kidnapping. 
There seemed every chance of rescue, or if 
not of rescue, of sending the news of his 
capture home. Just then the team came 
out of the woods, breasted a ridge and 
started downward on a descent so sharp 
that George had to dig his heels into the 
floor of the wagon to keep from slipping 
below his vantage point. An old forest fire 
had ravaged the valley from crest to crest 
and left the centre a wilderness of scrub 
oaks, of tangled bushes, and trailing vines. 
The road wound down the nearer slope in 
long loops between stumps and rocks and 
rose on the other side in an equally leisurely 
fashion. Half way down the opposite in- 
cline was a Concord wagon drawn by a gray 
horse. George could not clearly see its oc- 
cupant, but he noted the sigh of relief with 
which the men on the seat settled back into 
their places. 

"It’s only Jim,” said the stout man, and 
his companion nodded. 

7 


98 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

George’s heart fell, but he did not give 
up hope. They were reasonably sure to 
stop and talk and his opening might come 
from some lead supplied by their conversa- 
tion. It was worth trying anyway, and at 
even this slight chance the lad’s optimistic 
mind became busy with a dozen possible 
alternatives. The wagons neared each other, 
came closer yet, and George tried to reach 
forward to get a quicker view, but in vain. 
The approaching team swung off to a siding 
and stopped, while the wagon which bore the 
captive went on beside it. 

“ Hallo, Jim,” said the two men in unison. 
“ Hallo, Ab and Jake,” replied a harsh res- 
onant voice. “ How be ye ? ” 

George sank wearily back on the bag of 
corn as he heard the words. It was the 
voice of the deputy sheriff. 

“ What ye got there, Ab ?” asked the sheriff. 
“Live stock we’ve been huntin’,” replied 
the elder man in a low voice but with a 
significant smile. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 99 

“ Not him?” asked the sheriff, leaning 
forward in his wagon with a sudden interest. 
The elder man nodded. The sheriff opened 
his mouth and indulged in a long, almost 
noiseless laugh with queer choking gasps in 
the back of his throat, stopping to ask in a 
somewhat anxious fashion, “He can hear 
us, can’t he ?” 

The elder man shook his head. “No, 
he’s dead to the world for an hour or two 
more. He came down kerplunk on a rock 
as he ran away and we found him limp’s 
a rag.” 

The sheriff nodded his head in a satisfied 
fashion and then directed his gaze to the 
bandage surrounding the younger man’s 
head. 

“Hurt your head, Jake?” 

Jake nodded surlily. 

“He did it,” said the elder man, motion- 
ing backward with the same jerk of the 
thumb George had observed before. “But 
he’ll pay for it ’fore he gits through. That’s 


100 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
what we took him for, of course,” he went 
on in a mock serious tone, winking at the 
sheriff. “’Sault and battery on the high 
road’s a pretty serious proposition.” 

“Did he ’sault and batter you, Jake?” 
asked the sheriff with a cavernous grin. 

Jake made no response but the elder man 
nodded emphatically. The sheriff leaned 
nearer. “Have you heard from them to-day 
or yesterday ? ” 

“ No,” replied the stout man. “ Have ye ? ” 

The sheriff grinned once more and drew 
an envelope from his coat pocket. From 
this he extracted one after another five five- 
dollar bills which he waved in the air. 
“How’s that for high?” he remarked com- 
placently. “That shows pretty clear, I 
guess, how they’re suited with me.” The 
two men immediately showed signs of great 
interest. 

“They paid you that,” asked the younger, 
“and never told you just what you was to 
do?” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME ioi 

“They did,” replied the sheriff. 

“Then we’re all right to go ahead, Ab,” 
remarked Jake, turning to his companion. 
“I haven’t been any too sure about it up 
to now. I did n’t quite like doin’ things on 
my own responsibility, but that twenty-five 
dollars settles me. I’ll do anythin’ you 
say.” 

“ But what are you going to do, Ab ? ” 
queried the sheriff. “Or don’t you want to 
tell?” 

“ Oh ! I don’t mind,” said Abner. “ We ’re 
going to take him home and then — ” the 
younger man seemed uneasy as the elder 
began to speak. As he reached this point 
Jake could stand it no longer. He broke out. 
“Now, Ab, you’re a fool to tell all that here. 
If you want to tell Jim about it get out and 
tell him side of his wagon.” 

Abner, a trifle crestfallen at the rebuke, 
hastened to obey, and a long whispered 
colloquy followed. George strained his ears 
to catch the substance of the story which so 


102 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

vitally concerned himself, but in all he only 
caught these words, “barn chamber ” “to- 
morrow” and “Jake.” “Apparently they’re 
going to do something to me with J ake in the 
barn chamber to-morrow,” thought George 
disgustedly as Abner returned to his own 
team and climbed in. “ But I don’t see how 
I’m going to find out what it is until to- 
morrow comes. Never mind, there’s time to 
burn before that. Now’s the time to cheer 
up.” 

Once Abner was safely in his team, the 
sheriff picked up his lines to drive on. His 
horse started, only to be stopped by a sono- 
rous “Whoa!” “Oh! I fergot to tell you,” 
he said. “That rock man, the one I was 
telling you about a while ago, was up again 
yesterday and another chap with him. They 
brought up some big glass bottles, biggest 
I ever see. Twice er three times as big as the 
candy jars down to the store at the corners, 
and they had ’em in a fine leather case made 
to fit, an’ what do you suppose they did 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 103 
with ’em ? ” The sheriff paused dramatically. 
The two men listened eagerly to the tale of 
the strange doings of the outlanders. 

“What did they do?” asked Jake breath- 
lessly. 

“Went an’ filled every one of them bottles 
chock full of water from different parts of the 
old pond. D ’ you ever hear of anything so 
ridiklus ? ” On mature consideration Abner 
and Jake agreed they never did, and Abner 
averred sagely that you could n’t account 
for the ways of city folks anyway. With 
another word of farewell they started on. 
This time the sheriff’s horse had taken half 
a dozen steps before he remembered some- 
thing else and his “Whoa” resounded once 
more over the burned spaces around. 

The sheriff leaned forward impressively as 
the other wagon stopped. “D’ye know,” 
he began, “ I ’ve found out why they want to 
keep him off the place.” 

Abner and Jake listened, all eagerness. 

“I’ve made up my mind from things I’ve 


104 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
heerd that that young scamp ’s trying to do 
’em out of the property here. It seems, ’f I 
understand it right, that he’s got no real right 
to the property but that he’s got to sign off 
as one of the old heirs. Now, somehow, if 
he can get down to the lake and make a 
declaration there he can make them pay 
him for signing off. I don’t pretend to un- 
derstand all the law of it, but it’s that way, 
somehow.” 

“You don’t say,” said Abner with deep 
interest. “Then what they want is to keep 
him away from the pond and get him to sign 
off. Do tell.” They started off once more, 
and the sheriff’s wagon was a hundred feet 
away when George heard yet another sono- 
rous “Whoa,” and the sheriff’s voice across 
the space, “Hey, Ab.” Abner pulled up 
impatiently, “What’s up, Jim?” 

“Oh! nothin’; just give my regards to 
Sairey, that’s all.” And the sound of the 
Concord wagon’s wheels and the hoof beats 
of the gray horse died away in the distance. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


I0 5 

“ Funny feller, Jim is,” remarked Abner 
meditatively. “He’ll fool around half a hour 
starting’ and stoppin’ when you meet him on 
the road, but he’s energetic as anybody I ever 
see when it comes to action.” 

“Yep,” answered the taciturn Jake, and 
they rode on in silence through the growing 
twilight. 

George lost all sense of time after darkness 
set in and the memory of the ride that followed 
the meeting with the sheriff resolved itself 
into a nightmare of throbbing head, of ach- 
ing limbs, and of vain strivings to untangle 
the threads of the disjointed conversation 
he had just heard. At last the horse came to 
a halt and Jake got out and took down some 
bars. The team jolted over them and 
stopped in a pasture. George could observe 
the outlines of the surrounding woods but 
dimly, yet he could mark the difference 
between the tree-fringed road they had left 
and the open space through which they were 
passing. 


106 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

After a few moments’ jolting over a rough 
pasture road they drew up beside an old 
barn where a light from an upper window 
showed that a house stood a short distance 
away. 

“ Liza’s up with Sairey,” said Jake. 

“ Let her stay there,” growled Abner. “ We 
got to git him out now.” 

Jake threw open the barn doors, let Abner 
drive through, and closed them behind him. 
George was conscious of the lighting of a 
lantern and then the horse blanket was 
pulled off and he looked up in the face of 
his captors. 

“’Wake, be ye,” said Abner gruffly. “We 
don’t want to hear any of yer lip, so don’t 
speak to-night.” 

Untying the cords that bound George’s 
feet and hands, Jake helped him, almost 
lifted him from the wagon. Abner stepped 
forward, and one on each side the two men 
half forced him, half carried him up the barn 
stairs and to the front of the barn. Once there 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 107 
they pushed him in through an open door. 
George stumbled forward into the darkness 
on his hands and knees, and as he did so he 
heard a key turn, a staple rattle, and a padlock 
click. He was well locked in at all events. 


CHAPTER SEVEN 

Dumb and dazed by the harsh experiences 
of the afternoon George made no attempt to 
move. He took as comfortable a position 
as he could attain on the hard floor and lay 
there without an effort at formulated thought. 
Some time, perhaps an hour, had passed 
before he heard steps entering the barn and 
ascending the stairs. The bolts shot back, 
the door opened, and he heard Jake’s gruff 
voice, “There’s some grub for you on the 
floor here. You can take it or leave it as 
you choose.” George saw a dark figure 
stoop down in the rectangle of the door and 
heard a tray placed on the ground. He could 
see a feeble light shining on the roof of the 
barn outside from the lantern on the floor 
below, but the gleam did not penetrate the 
darkness of his chamber. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 109 
Without another word Jake straightened 
up, slammed the door, locked and pad- 
locked it. As George heard the descending 
steps upon the creaking stair he felt a sudden 
disgust at himself that he had not had 
sufficient presence of mind to try and over- 
power his jailer and escape. But a moment’s 
reflection showed him the difficulty of such 
action. He had no conception of his where- 
abouts. Apparently he was in the very depths 
of the woods and any trail he took in the night 
might result in his being hopelessly lost. He 
could use his right leg only with difficulty. 
His head was throbbing violently and his 
whole weary body proved his urgent need of 
rest. As George settled down to a quieter 
frame of mind the smell of food roused him 
to a realization that he was famished. Pain- 
fully he dragged himself to the door and 
reached the tray. The very smell of the warm 
food revived him and, somewhat to his de- 
lighted surprise, he found that his harsh 
captors did not intend to starve him, at all 


no FOR THE NORTON NAME 
events. A well filled plate of beans, a huge 
hunk of brown bread, and a pitcher of milk 
were at his service. 

Despite his weariness and pain George 
attacked his supper vigorously and finished it 
entire. With the satisfaction of his hunger 
came a new strength and a new purpose. 
The lethargy which had chained him dis- 
appeared. George stretched himself vigor- 
ously and began a tour of inspection. Using 
the right side of the door as a starting point 
he worked his way round the walls, feeling 
for a window. He counted the walls off 
as he progressed. “One, two, three, four.” 
He had returned to the left side of the door 
and had met no window on any of the four 
walls, reaching as high and as low as his arms 
would go. He had struck nothing on the 
floor in his travels. 

That settled the window question. There 
was no opening which George could use as an 
immediate avenue of escape. There was 
nothing, moreover, standing within three or 


FOR THE NORTON NAME ill 
four feet of the walls. That left a rectangular 
space in the centre unexplored. “We will 
now explore some of the blank spaces of this 
black country,” remarked George cheerily 
to the surrounding air, and immediately he 
followed his own suggestion. Working his 
way to one corner of the room on the door 
side he started from that point and went 
across, arms outspread. No result. Taking 
the other side and spreading his arms wide 
he turned on a semicircle, using his outer 
hand as a pivot, and started back. No result 
again. “Nothing in that seven feet,” re- 
marked George thoughtfully. “ I believe 
this is an empty chamber, but anyway, here 
goes again.” He had gone only a few steps 
this time when his knee came whack against 
an obstacle. He reached quickly down and 
put his hand on a cot on which lay a pair of 
heavy blankets. “Board and lodging free,” 
chuckled George. “May as well make all 
I can out of it.” As he spoke he threw off 
his boots and his overcoat, loosened his col- 


1 12 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
lar and lay down, drawing the rough blankets 
over him. In five seconds he was sound 
asleep. 

The first sound George heard, on waking, 
was a call from Jake, “Hi ! Wake up there ! 
Here’s some breakfast,” and the slamming 
and locking of the door. He had slept so 
soundly that the man had entered un- 
perceived. George leaped to his feet but 
sank back again on the cot with an in- 
voluntary groan. His head though sore was 
much better, but the hurt to his leg seemed 
more serious than he had thought. The rain 
was descending in torrents on the roof out- 
side and the rushing wind was lashing a great 
branch of a tree against the side of the barn. 
Proceeding this time with considerable caution 
George managed to hobble across the room 
and reached the door and his breakfast safely. 
His morning meal was a repetition of his 
evening one save for the addition of a pitcher 
of water. Like his supper of the night before 
his breakfast gave him a renewed strength. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 113 
After finishing, George retreated to his cot 
and sat down to go over the situation. 

“Why is it,” he said to himself, “that the 
air here is so fresh and good ? That inner wall 
is tightly built of match boards and no rain 
has come in through the roof. I could find 
no windows last night but it certainly seems 
as if there must be some way of admitting air 
beside the cracks and crannies which would 
naturally exist. If I could find,” he went on 
musingly, “If I could find where the air 
currents blow across I ought to be able — 
Eureka ! ” he exclaimed suddenly. “I know; 
I ’ll wet my hand with water from the pitcher 
and hold it out. If there is a current of air 
blowing into any part of the room it’ll strike 
my hand when I pass it and chill the flesh by 
evaporating the moisture.” 

Up and down the room tramped George 
with one hand holding his water pitcher and 
the other rising and falling in an attempt to 
find one spot where the skin felt colder than 

elsewhere. Half the room had been examined 
8 


1 14 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
when George at the extreme end of the 
chamber on the side opposite the door felt 
an unmistakable draft of air. That lead 
brought him to the floor and to a crack in 
the boards where, by peering through, he 
could get a line of light. That was a start 
indeed. It was the first light George had seen 
since he entered, and that single dull line 
seemed equal in beauty to the finest land- 
scape he had ever beheld. He felt cautiously 
up and down the board. It was a short one, 
lying lengthwise along the side. He tried to 
raise the plank. It gave, but his utmost 
strength was not enough and after an effort 
which left him exhausted he sat back on the 
floor to try to work some way out. 

“Now, what have I got that I can raise 
that with ? ” he said. “My knife’s gone. 
Those rascals probably took it. None of the 
breakfast dishes nor the tray would do. The 
cot won’t do. Hold on, though, the bed gave 
a kind of metallic rattle when I got up this 
morning. Let’s have a try at that.” Sure 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


JI 5 

enough, when George came to investigate he 
found a thin iron bar binding together the 
two upper legs of the cot which was held 
insecurely by screws. The screws were so 
loosely held that it was but the work of a 
minute to take them out with the fingers. 
George stood up in a moment with the 
iron bar in his hand and brandished it 
aloft. 

“Now I’ve got a lever to work my way out, 
or a weapon, if I have to use it,” he remarked 
joyously. 

Hurrying to the board he slipped his lever 
in and after a few determined tugs, to his great 
joy, felt the wood give way. As it gave, a 
stream of light from half a dozen auger holes, 
pierced for some unexplained reason and 
opening out just below the eaves, entered 
the room. George dropped to the floor 
and looked out, blinking, until his eyes, 
accustomed to darkness, could stand the 
light. 

The scene before him was not an attractive 


Ii6 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
one. The back side of an old, low-pitched, 
brown farmhouse was in the foreground. A 
farmyard cluttered with old wagons, straw 
waste, and various lumber lay in between. 
The trees which bordered the meadow land 
surrounding the house were twisting and 
swaying in a driving storm while the sky above 
was dark and gloomy. No sign of a passing 
road was evident and there was no appearance 
of life save that the window beside the back 
door of the farmhouse was up about an inch 
and showed a fluttering curtain. George 
had lain quietly for some minutes photograph- 
ing the whole scene on his memory when the 
back door opened and the two men, now 
dressed in oilskins, appeared. As they came 
splashing across the yard they were talking 
earnestly. George caught only a question 
and answer before he felt forced to put his 
board down and return to his cot. The 
younger man had said to the elder, 

“Got the paper with you ?” and the leader 
had replied, “Yes.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 117 

As the stairs creaked and groaned under 
the weight of the ascending pair George 
braced himself to meet the coming struggle. 
The locks shot back and the opening door 
gave entrance to Abner bearing a lantern. 
He turned as he entered and called to his 
companion in the rear. 

“You stay right there, Jake, right at the 
top of those stairs.” 

“That settles the question of escape by 
fighting the two of them,” thought George. 
“With my leg the way it is, I can’t do a thing 
with the opposing forces scattered,” so he 
settled himself for the fray. 

“Now, young man,” began Abner sternly, 
putting his lantern on the floor and leaning 
back against the partition with his hands in 
his pockets, “my cousin here has suffered a 
serious inj’ry to his head at yer hands. A 
serious inj’ry, I say,” he went on stamping his 
foot as the corners of George’s mouth lifted, 
despite himself, at the memory of Jake face 
downward in the mold. “This is no laugh- 


n 8 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

in g matter as ye’ll find out,” continued 

Abner. 

“It doesn’t seem like one to me,” broke 
in George, his face setting hard as he thought 
of his experiences during the past twenty-four 
hours. He went on sharply, “ There ’s a whole 
lot of things I could say to you about the way 
you’ve treated me but I’m not going to do it 
now. Suppose you cut out the preliminaries, 
too. What do you want, anyway ? ” 

Abner cheated out of his carefully prepared 
statements by George’s direct question was 
speechless for a time, but finally with an effort 
managed to blurt out, “ We’ve decided that 
if ye’ll sign a paper agreein’ to pay Jake 
fifty dollars for the inj’ry we’ll take ye down 
to the road and let ye go. If ye won’t, we’ll 
take ye down to the Corners and jail ye in the 
deputy sheriff’s care till the judge comes. 
He ’s away down to the city, but he ’ll be 
home in about two weeks. Here ’s the paper.” 
Abner handed a folded slip to George and 
leaned back against the wall thrusting his 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 119 
hands into his pockets once more. The 
paper read as follows : 

w I promise to pay Jacob Raynes fifty dollars on de- 
mand in payment for the injuries I made on him. 
u Signed.” 

George looked at the slip of paper in some 
perplexity. He knew enough of conditions in 
the back country to recognize that it was 
readily in the power of these men to hold him 
in the jail, under their friend the deputy 
sheriff’s direction, until the magistrate re- 
turned. And it was so essential for every 
reason that he should be free at once. The 
precious samples still in his pockets needed 
instant analysis. According to the deputy 
sheriff’s story of yesterday it seemed likely 
that there had been a chemist at the lake, 
and the International Glass Company might 
be devising any sort of a scheme in his ab- 
sence. Above all, the contract with the 
Belgian demanded instant attention. There 
was not a day to lose on that. If he could 


120 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


be free he could attend to all these things 
himself, and as for the signature he knew 
that a document signed under violent com- 
pulsion, so to speak, would never hold for a 
minute in a court of law. 

“Ye can use that pen ye’ve got in your 
pocket,” Abner’s harsh voice broke in, 
“and ye’re to sign right there where I’ve 
written ‘ signed.’ ” 

At the word George looked more carefully 
at the paper. The signature was to be placed 
an inch or more below the writing of the 
main body of the document. Like a flash the 
meaning of the whole thing broke in on him. 
It was a trick, the old bunco game which the 
bogus lightning rod agents had worked for so 
many years on unwary folk, getting them to 
sign their names to what seemed to be a con- 
tract for lightning rods but what was really a 
promissory note. This precious pair were now 
trying the old trick on him. George sprang 
to his feet forgetting his injured leg. He faced 
his shambling captor who was still leaning 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 121 
with folded arms against the wall, and broke 
forth, his voice ringing with sqorn, and indig- 
nation showing in every lineament. 

“You low tricky scoundrel. So it’s not 
enough for you to take up kidnapping, but 
you must add swindling, too. So this is the 
scheme you told the sheriff yesterday. This 
is the paper you thought you’d get me to 
sign off on. Not if I know myself I don’t. 
Do you think I’m such a fool as to sign a 
paper with an inch or more of blank space 
above my signature where you could write in 
anything you pleased, or anybody else could 
for that matter. I don’t see it that way,” 
and the lad flung the paper on the floor. 

Abner’s jaw dropped as George denounced 
him, and he leaned back against the wall a 
picture of surprise. So completely amazed 
did he seem that George, despite himself, 
began to wonder if his surmise was correct 
and if his somewhat melodramatic outburst 
was justified. 

It was with something of a feeling of relief 


122 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
in consequence that he saw the stout man 
bend over hurriedly to pick up the paper re- 
marking, “ Ye’re mightily mistaken. That’ s 
all I’ve got to say. But if that’s all that’s 
troublin’ ye I’ll go and get another paper 
writ that’ll have the signature place right 
under the writin’.” He rose and hurried 
from the room, locking the door behind him. 

George sank back on his couch striving 
to order his tumultuous thoughts. Perhaps 
he was wrong in assuming that it was a 
trick. Was there anything in the wording 
of the paper which would make it operate 
as a bill of sale ? He could see nothing of 
the sort and it was so essential that he should 
go free at once. But in back of all this lay 
a whole undercurrent of strange events 
awakened to full force by the experience 
which he had just undergone. Everything 
seemed to point to the desire of the Inter- 
national Glass Company to get control of 
the lake in the wood lot. Everything seemed 
to point to the necessity of his getting ex- 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 123 
pert opinion on the conditions which existed 
at the lake at the very first moment possible. 
What was the thing to do ? George groaned 
aloud and shook his fist in air as he thought 
of his helpless condition and the necessity 
for using every minute if the Norton Factory 
was to get the Belgian’s contract. But such 
a mood never lasted but a moment with 
George Norton. The sound of his groan 
started him instantly into self-control, and 
his face set once more as he heard the sound 
of men approaching from below. 

As before, Jake guarded the top of the 
stairs while Abner unlocked the door and 
entered, leaving his lantern on the floor out- 
side. The light shone but dimly into the 
room. Abner had shed his oilskins each 
time before climbing the stairs and this time 
unbuttoned his coat to take out a long flat 
book. He opened it to the middle, bent it 
back and showed a paper similar to the one 
George had seen before but with the signature 
line placed directly below the writing. 


124 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“Now, young man,” said Abner, “we’ve 
got pretty tired of yer highfaluting ways. 
We’ve had just about all we can stand. 
Here’s the paper in my hand. Ye can sign 
it or leave it, but whichever ye do ye’ll do 
now. If ye don’t sign it ye’ll go to jail in- 
side twenty-four hours or else we’ll keep ye 
jailed here under orders of the sheriff. He 
may want us to keep ye here till the jedge 
comes. I jest thought of that an’ I think it 
quite probable he will.” 

The hope which had lingered in George’s 
brain of escaping on the way to the jail dis- 
appeared as Abner spoke. The paper might 
be the way out after all. The lad bent for- 
ward to examine it and smiled as he saw 
that it lay on a picture of the Capitol at 
Washington, emblem of law and order. 
The book on which the paper rested was a 
“Pictorial History of the World.” By the 
dim light George examined carefully every 
word crabbedly written between the lines 
of heavy black with which the paper was 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


125 

ruled. He started to take the document 
himself but Abner drew it away. 

“No more of your monkey shines, young 
man,” he growled. “We’ve had enough of 
’em. I’ll hold on to this paper.” 

George examined the soiled sheet yet 
more closely. It seemed all right. The 
signature was directly below the writing. 
No trickery appeared in the wording. Finally 
he turned his attention to the space around 
the writing. Up at the top he could just see 
a thumb mark, and as he gazed at it idly 
Mark Twain’s classic tale of thumb marks 
flashed into his head. He looked at it more 
closely and recognized the straight line of 
a cut which his own thumb had suffered 
and from which it was just healing. Swiftly 
he glanced at his thumb. It was there. 
His own thumb and no other must have 
made that imprint. Before Abner could 
stop him George reached for the paper and 
pulled it towards him with a quick jerk. 
He did not pull it away, but just above the 


126 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
signature space and just below the writing, 
one of the black lines parted and a blank 
space an inch or more across opened out. 
It was the original paper cleverly folded 
and fastened. The blank space above the 
signature had been left unchanged. Abner 
let out a bellow like that of an angry bull 
as George jumped back from his discovery. 

“Here, Jake, Jake,” he called. “Come 
here and we’ll settle this young monkey 
shiner. I’ve had all I’ll stand. Here, Jake, 
Jake.” 

As Abner spoke George retreated swiftly 
to his cot and seized the iron bar still hidden 
below the blankets. By a quick intuition 
he did not bring it forth. Something might 
happen yet. He would not show his only 
weapon till the last moment possible. Abner 
was slow of movement, Jake was slow of 
thought. Between the two there ought to 
be a chance. George grasped his weapon 
with a firmer grip as he saw Abner move 
towards the door. Jake for some reason 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 127 
had not appeared and the man and the boy 
stood watching each other like two strange 
dogs uncertain at what moment hostilities 
are to begin. A joyful zest of battle entered 
into George’s soul as he crouched in the 
darkness, while the furious tempest raging 
outside seemed urging him on and tuning 
his spirits to the wild key of the Berserk 
gale. He felt a wild eagerness for the com- 
ing fray and turned lightly as Jake’s heavy 
step sounded on the boards outside. As 
the bandaged head showed in the opening 
Abner started to advance. Just then a 
man’s voice rang out above the tumult of 
the elements shouting, “ Abner, Abner, Jake. 
Where be ye ? ” 


CHAPTER EIGHT 

The sound of a voice penetrating the 
whirl of the tempest brought a sudden change 
in the situation. Abner and Jake paused 
irresolutely, and as the call was repeated, 
“ Abner, Jake, where be ye?” they turned 
and hastened away. Abner as he passed out 
shook a menacing fist at George, saying with 
a malignant look, “Wait, jest wait, that’s 
all.” Jake had already hurried down the 
stairs while Abner paused only long enough 
to make sure that the locks were fast. 

The moment they were out of the barn 
George dropped the iron bar upon his cot 
and hurried to his post of observation. 
Raising the loose board he looked out through 
the auger holes. Directly below him in the 
Concord wagon sat the deputy sheriff, and 
standing beside the wheel in their oilskins 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 129 
were Abner and Jake. They spoke in low- 
ered voices, but as they were directly below 
George’s lookout every word came clearly 
to his ears. 

“They told ye it was all wrong and that 
we were to come right down and see about 
it,” Abner was saying, with an incredulous 
air as George caught the first words. The 
sheriff nodded with a somewhat crestfallen 
expression. 

“What on airth did ye want to go and tell 
’em about it for, anyway,” went on Abner, 
angrily. 

“ I did n’t see no harm,” said the sheriff, 
blustering a trifle. “You did n’t tell me not 
to tell them and I thought ’twas a smart 
trick they’d like.” 

“Ye thought,” sneered Abner. “Ye 
thought once too often.” 

That sneer was too much for the sheriff. 
“Now, Ab, look here,” he said sharply. “I 
did my part of the job so’s to suit ’em per- 
fectly. I made twenty-five dollars out of it. 

9 


130 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
You’ve done your job so they’re not suited 
at all. Now you need n’t talk any more 
about what I did. One thing I want to 
know. Did he sign the paper ?” 

Abner seemed slow in answering and 
Jake broke in with a slight chuckle. “No, 
he did n’t. He see through Abner without 
any trouble. He would n’t sign.” 

Abner’s wet face became more and more 
suffused with angry red. “If ye two think 
ye’re going to make a fool of me this way 
or if they think they’re goin’ to make a fool 
of me they’re much mistook. I’ve got that 
youngster safe locked in the barn chamber 
and I won’t let him go.” 

“I don’t believe from what they say that 
’t is any good to keep him anyway. The 
rock man and the man that filled the bottles 
have both gone,” said the sheriff thought- 
fully, “an’ the red-headed feller is getting 
ready to go. Better change your mind, Ab, 
and come down and see ’em anyway. I 
guess they’ve got what they want.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 13 1 

George’s heart beat wildly with apprehen- 
sion as he heard these words. What could 
have happened in the brief time that he had 
been away? What had been the result of 
the analysis ? If he could only get the sam- 
ples to a chemist. 

The conversation beneath had come to 
a sudden pause. The sheriff sat quietly in 
his wagon and Abner and Jake sullenly 
considered the situation unmindful of the 
rain which still came driving steadily down. 
At length Abner broke out once more. “I’d 
rather not git another cent from them than 
come down and let that youngster go. I 
don’t know as I’ll git anythin’ more from 
’em, anyway.” 

“Now see here, Ab,” said the sheriff im- 
patiently. “You’re certainly makin’ a mis- 
take an’ you’re mighty likely to git into 
trouble if you keep on this way. All you’ve 
got to do is for you and Jake to jump into 
my wagon and drive down and see ’em. 
You can be back here inside three hours, 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


132 

and you’ll know where you are then. He 
can’t git out, can he? Just leave him there 
till you git back.” 

Jake broke in with a sudden determina- 
tion. “I’m goin’ anyway,” he announced 
firmly. “You got me into this, Ab, and I’m 
not going to risk my hide any farther before 
I know what’s up. You come along with 
Jim and me or I’ll set the youngster free 
and take him to the road myself.” 

For a joyful moment George saw Abner 
hesitate. Through dissension he might ob- 
tain immediate relief. It was with a sinking 
heart therefore that he saw relief delayed 
when Abner sullenly and silently stepped 
forward and mounted into the wagon. The 
sheriff heaved a sigh of satisfaction at his 
success. “You can sit in behind, Jake,” 
he said. Jake sprung in and the sheriff 
turned the horse around, asking as he did 
so, “Anybody with Sairey?” “Liza’s there. 
They’re on the other side of the house,” re- 
marked Jake. “They won’t know whether 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


133 

we’re gone or not.” Abner said never a 
word. The horse started up and the team 
went off, throwing the water of the puddles 
into a cloud of spray as it swung around the 
corner of the house and disappeared. 

“I’ve got five things out of that anyway,” 
remarked George as he shifted his position. 
“There’s dissension in the enemy’s camp. 
They (which I suppose translated means 
the International Glass Company) stop this 
side of kidnapping. There are two women 
in the house. I have three hours in which 
to make a try at escape. The road out of 
this place goes from the front of the house. 
Take it all in all that’s not so bad. I wish 
I could get some sight of the women.” 

His wish was granted instantly, for at that 
moment the back door of the farmhouse 
opened and a middle-aged woman with a 
shawl wrapped about her face stepped out 
on the little sheltered porch. She leaned 
out to get a better view of the barn and 
George, to his great surprise, recognized her 


134 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
as an old acquaintance. It was the woman 
who had furnished him with lunch when 
his automobile broke down and in whose 
shed he had stored his machine. He looked 
around the barnyard with a new wonder, 
to see if it could be the same place where 
he had been before, only to recognize the 
impossibility of such a theory. He looked 
at the woman again. There was no mis- 
taking that strong, kindly, though somewhat 
inquisitive, face. The men were gone. The 
woman had befriended him before. It cer- 
tainly looked as if there might be an opening 
there, especially as the woman was peer- 
ing out about the yard with short snappy 
jerks of her body from side to side. The 
time seemed particularly favorable. With 
a mighty effort George let out a cry, “ Help ! 
Help!” The woman started slightly at the 
sound and continued to peer around. George 
tried it again and again, but apparently he 
was only able to rouse her interest suffi- 
ciently to keep her from going in. In fact, 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 135 

the woman looked towards an old out- 
building at one side rather than at the barn. 
George paused for a moment in his cries. 
Why, when he had heard the voices of the 
men below him so clearly, could he not 
make the woman hear? A sweep of wind 
and rain past his position told the tale. His 
voice was struggling now against the storm. 
The voices of the men had been borne to 
him on the very wind which now was oppos- 
ing him. If he could not make the woman 
hear could he make her see ? That was the 
next question. George leaped to his feet, 
rushed to his cot and pulled out the iron 
bar. Hurrying back to the window he glanced 
out to find to his dismay that the woman was 
no longer in sight. He lost no time on that 
account, however, and began forcing his bar 
through one of the holes. It was just too 
wide to pass and George went to work with 
a steady sawing motion, back and forth, 
back and forth, trying to widen the hole. 
Little by little the wood began to give on 


136 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
either side and in a few minutes he was able 
with a firm thrust to force the bar through. 
Once he was successful he pulled the bar 
back, attached his handkerchief to a hole 
in the end and forced the iron out nearly to 
its entire length, making a flag of distress 
which, though the linen was soaking wet, 
floated out bravely in the powerful wind. 
His signal fixed in place George took an- 
other observation. As he gazed he saw the 
back door open and the woman appear, her 
eyes fixed upon his signal. She drew her 
shawl tightly about her and started across 
the wet and bedraggled farmyard. As she 
came across George let forth another call 
for help which this time reached her ears 
and to which she responded by a queer little 
upthrust of her face followed by a nod as 
if to say, “Oh, I know now where you are, 
well enough. What I want to know is where 
you are from and what you’re about. That’s 
what I’m coming to see.” 

For the first time the stairs leading to the 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


137 

loft creaked with a welcome sound. Hereto- 
fore they had sounded with threat and men- 
ace. George could but believe that help was 
at hand. He had reached the door before the 
woman had entered the barn and stood press- 
ing against it in his eagerness as she ascended. 

“Who are you and what are you locked in 
there for ? ” asked the woman curiously, the 
moment she reached the door. 

“I’m George Norton of the Norton Glass 
Company,” responded George. “You gave 
me some of the best things I ever ate when 
my automobile broke down at your house 
two days ago.” 

“Land of Goshen,” ejaculated the woman. 
“Are you that good-looking boy that left the 
automobile? Of course you are. Funny I 
did n’t recognize your voice right off.” 

George laughed. “I don’t quite agree 
about the good-looking part,” he answered. 
“But otherwise I fit the description. Now 
I want to get” — out he was going to say 
when the woman interrupted him. 


138 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“You must have been surprised to see me 
here. I’m Liza Jones and I came over here 
to take care of Abner Jennings’ wife Sairey. 
She sprained her ankle and can’t move 
round. I just came over yesterday morn- 
ing. I suppose that good-for-nothing Ab 
Jennings and Jake Raynes did this.” 

“They kidnapped me,” said George. 
“ Bound me hand and foot, brought me here and 
locked me in. They thought they were going to 
make money by so doing but it seems that 
they are mistaken. They’ve gone and don’t 
expect to be back for three hours anyway.” 

“Three hours,” said the woman ener- 
getically. “We’ll have you out of here 
before they can get back.” 

“Good for you,” cried George, delighted. 
“I hope it won’t get you into trouble.” 

“Trouble,” echoed the woman firmly. 
“You just wait till I see Ab Jennings and I’ll 
give him a piece of my mind that’ll last him 
for weeks. T rouble ! Y es, there ’ll be trouble 
but it won’t come my way. If ’t was n’t for 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 139 
Sairey I’d jail Ab in a minute for this. He’s 
as rascally a vagabond as ever married an 
honest woman. No use wasting time talking 
about him, though. Wait till I get a lantern 
and we’ll look at the locks.” 

She bustled off, leaving George behind in a 
perfect fever of impatience. This final wait- 
ing was the hardest of all to endure. In 
reality scarcely a minute passed before Liza 
was back again, examining the fastening. 

“That’s an awful good job,” she said 
critically. “The staples of the padlock are 
held with bolts and nuts. The lock looks like 
a good one. Can you feel the nuts on the 
ends of the bolts?” she called to George. 

George felt around in the darkness. 

“No,” he called back. “I can’t feel any- 
thing on this side.” 

“That’s what I was afraid of,” said the 
woman. “I was pretty sure this was a double 
wall and the bolts are fastened between the 
walls. I wonder if we could pry the door 
open.” 


140 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

‘‘I have an iron bar in here,” said George 
quickly. “The one I used in making my 
signal. I tried that last night but it’s rather 
soft and it bends when I use it too hard. It 
scarcely stirred the door at all.” 

“I really shouldn’t think it would,” said 
Liza reflectively. “But there may be some- 
thing in the barn or the house that will do it. 
I’ll go and see.” 

She clattered down the stairs and went 
rummaging around, accompanying her search 
by a running fire of critical comment. 

“ Slackest barn I ever saw. Shiftless. Shift- 
less ; as full of shiftlessness as the man who 
owns it. Guess he don’t own much of it 
now except mortgage. He owns a bigger 
mortgage every year. Not a thing here 
that’ll do. I’ll have to try the house.” 

George heard her depart and ran to his 
watch tower to see her making her way man- 
fully through the storm. In ten minutes she 
started back again empty handed. 

“Mr. Norton,” she called as she reached 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 141 
the door, “ there ain’t a thing in the house 
or barn that I can pry that door open with. 
There ain’t an axe or a hatchet on the place. 
Jake took ’em up to the woods yesterday, 
Sairey says. What do you think I’d better 
do next?” 

“Why not see if by any chance there’s a 
key that will fit one of the locks,” suggested 
George somewhat anxiously. “Or if there’s 
a chisel and mallet in the house you might 
cut around the locks on the door.” 

“We’ll try that,” said Liza cheerfully. 
“Don’t you fret; I’ll get you out before they 
get back.” 

The second period of waiting seemed 
longer to George than had the first. In 
reality it was but a short time before Liza 
was back with a jingling bunch of iron. 

“ Here ’s a lot of old keys,” she said. “ We ’ll 
try them first.” 

One by one George could hear her fit the 
keys into the lock. One by one he heard 
them fall rejected to the ground. At length 


142 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
he heard Liza straighten up with a slight 
groan. “I never was made to stoop very 
Ion g,” she remarked in an aside. “There 
ain’t one of those keys will work, Mr. Norton, 
and there ain’t a chisel to be found on the 
place. I ’ve got a screwdriver and a hammer, 
though, and I’m going to see if I can cut 
around the locks with that.” 

Thereupon began a clatter of hammer and 
iron that outdid the moan of the tempest. 
For what appeared to George an indefinite 
period Liza hammered away. Suddenly he 
heard a metallic snap and the rattling fall of 
iron at some distance. 

“There, I’ve gone and busted the only 
screwdriver I could find,” cried Liza momen- 
tarily in despair. “I don’t see what I can do 
now. What shall I do, Mr. Norton ? ” 

George was nearly at his wit’s end ; but one 
more alternative occurred to him. It was an 
almost hopeless one under the conditions, yet 
the only one which offered the slightest 
chance of relief. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 143 
“If there was any means of heating a poker 
red hot ," he called through the door, “you 
might burn a piece out all around the locks. 
But anything you heated in the kitchen stove 
would be stone cold before you got it here 
and there's no charcoal heater or stove here 
in the barn, is there ? " 

“No, there ain't," called Liza joyously. 
“But there’s just the thing in the house. 
Sairey's got a burnt-wood outfit, what the 
storekeeper called a pyrographic outfit, just 
like mine, and I can burn you out with that." 
She hurried off, leaving George lost in wonder 
at the means she intended to employ. How 
had a burnt-wood outfit ever penetrated this 
remote place ? It was too much of a mystery. 
He gave it up. 

This time he had not long to wait. Liza 
was back with a speed which belied her years. 
Despite her curiosity she was of true indomi- 
table pioneer grain, of a type which still per- 
sists in many a country village and isolated 
farmhouse. The hiss of the red-hot platinum 


144 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

tip against the wood was the first sound 

George heard. 

“I’m going to burn a line right around the 
locks on the door,” volunteered Liza. “ Burn 
it right round and then keep on burning it 
deeper and deeper. I’ve got plenty of wood 
alcohol and the whole thing is brand new. 
Sairey never used hers. I’ve done a lot of 
real pretty things. I did a Dutch scene on a 
square piece of board that I ’ve hung up over 
the mantel in the parlor, and a lion that’s 
burnt in behind the bars of his cage. You 
burn the bars deep and black so they look 
just like iron and you shade the lion to a light 
brown which makes a very realistic picture, 
the descriptive pamphlet says. I’m doing a 
sea landscape on a piece of board that fits 
inside a horseshoe now.” The hissing sound 
of the hot platinum tip continued steadily 
as she talked and George went on with the 
conversation. 

“But where did you get the burnt-wood 
outfit, anyway ? ” he asked. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


145 

“Down to the Corner’s store,” answered 
Liza, busily at work. “There was two of 
them, big ones, all a drummer had left, and 
he threw ’em in to get John Smart, the store- 
keeper, to take some other things. John had 
’em on hand for six months, and one day he 
had ’em out and was looking at ’em when 
Sairey and me was down there with eggs. 
‘ Don’t you want two burnt-wood outfits ? ’ 
says he, showing ’em to us.” 

She interrupted herself. “There, a few 
minutes more and I guess you can kick that 
out.” 

She went on, “ £ What’ll you take for ’em ? ’ 
says I. ‘How many eggs you got? ’ says he; 
‘I’ve got four dozen,’ says I, ‘and Sairey ’s 
got the same.’ ‘You can have ’em for that,’ 
says he, ‘ and glad to get rid of ’em ! ’ I’ve had 
fun enough out of my set to pay for it ten 
times over, but I ’m getting out of the stamped 
wood and I need another tip. Sairey ’s 
never used hers. She has n’t what the de- 
scriptive pamphlet calls ‘the artistic tem- 


10 


146 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
perament.’ Now I have. The descriptive 
pamphlet says that anybody can learn to burn 
wood but that those that have the artistic 
temperament get the most out of it. I think 
that’s why I enjoy it so much. But, land of 
Goshen, I never thought I ’d be freeing a pris- 
oner with a burnt-wood outfit. There, Mr. 
Norton,” she broke off, “if you’ll kick good 
and hard just to one side of where those locks 
are I think you can kick that door out.” 

Pulling the cot to the door and seating 
himself upon it to save his lame leg George 
kicked good and hard with his well leg. The 
door creaked, bent, and gave, and to his great 
joy George saw it swing out. He was free 
Liza stood back, a broad smile on her good- 
natured inquisitive face. 

“Land of Goshen!” she exclaimed. 
“That’s the best piece of burnt- wood work 
I ever did or I’m ever likely to do, I guess.” 

“You’re a trump,” said George with deep 
feeling as he seized her hand and shook it 
warmly. “I’ll never forget this.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 147 

“Well, now you’re out,” said Liza, “come 
over to the house and I’ll give you some- 
thing to eat. I’ve just been baking ginger- 
bread this morning and I’d a sight rather 
you’d have it than that worthless pair. It’s 
getting too near time for them to be back to 
linger any.” 

Pulling on his coat and cap George fol- 
lowed Liza down the stairs and out into the 
barnyard. The storm had diminished in 
intensity during the time taken for his release 
and the passage across the yard was not as 
difficult as it had been. George was limping 
badly and Liza had just said to him, “It’s a 
perfect shame you have to walk, lame as 
you are; I wish you could take a wagon,” 
when the unmistakable sound of wagon 
wheels came to their ears. 

“They ’re coming back,” cried Liza. 
“Come, run to the house.” 

“No,” said George, “the woods.” 

“No, I tell you,” said the woman, “run; I 
know.” 


148 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

George obeyed and the two ran as fast as 
they could go for the back door. Liza opened 
it. George hurried through and Liza locked it 
behind them as the wagon turned the corner 
into the yard. They were in a clean kitchen 
where a great loaf of gingerbread stood on the 
well-scrubbed table. Liza rushed to it, broke 
off half the loaf and handed it to George. 

“Take that/’ she said, “and come.” 

They hurried into a small front hall and 
stopped there as the sound of stamping feet 
was heard on the back porch. 

“Go straight out two hundred yards,” 
directed Liza; “then swing into a trail that 
leads off beyond a big white birch. That’ll 
take you to the main road. From there 
it’s three miles to Enders Crossing on the 
railroad to Nortonville. You’ll know where 
you are then.” 

The sound of vigorous knocking began to 
reverberate through the house and a queru- 
lous voice came down from upstairs, “ Liza, 
why don’t you go to the back door ? ” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 149 

“In a minute, Sairey,” called Liza. “Now 
go,” she said, unlocking the door; “I’ll keep 
’em busy for a while, I’ll warrant you.” 

George ran out as fast as his leg would 
carry him, bearing his gingerbread. He was 
scarcely out of the clearing when the tumult 
at the back door stilled and he heard Liza’s 
voice holding stridently forth. 

“Now, Abner Jennings and Jake Raynes, 
you just come in here! I’ve got a bone to 
pick with you ! ” 

Smiling in spite of his danger, George 
hurried on, found the birch and the trail, and 
turned off into the narrow path. Through 
the mist the trodden way showed clear, and 
the lad hurried as best he might, but with 
growing exhaustion, towards the main road, 
never stopping till he reached it. Then, 
utterly spent, he climbed the steep beside the 
road, settled down into a group of rocks, and 
ravenously attacked his gingerbread. He 
was a free man, but he was a long way 
from home with but little money and badly 


150 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
crippled. The samples, the precious samples, 
however, were safe. 

George was hobbling down the country 
road when a man in a rough wagon ap- 
proached him. The lad stopped short and, 
as the man came up to him, he said, — 

“I have hurt my leg in the woods and I 
want to get to the railroad station. Will you 
take me there ? ” 

“No,” replied the man, “I go the other 
way.” 

“But,” cried George, “I’m suffering. I 
must get where I can get a doctor.” 

“Can’t help it,” said the man. “You go 
on and you find somebody.” 

“But I’ll pay you well for it,” said George 
anxiously. 

A bit of grasping light came into the man’s 
eyes. He was one of those peasant farmers 
sent over in herds to this country, with but 
little understanding or thought of kindliness 
or helpfulness. 

“How much you pay?” he said eagerly. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 15 1 

“ I ’ll pay you two dollars,” returned George. 

The man shook his head and started on. 
George halted him with an upraised hand. 

“Hold on, I’ll pay all I have.” 

“How much?” inquired the farmer, stop- 
ping. 

“I shall need my fare down and I have 
only four dollars beside with me, but I will 
give you all of that.” 

“Show it to me,” said the man doubtingly. 

George pulled out his wallet and showed 
him the four dollars. 

“How much you need for your fare?” 

“Sixty cents,” George replied. 

“Where you going?” asked the man. 

“Down to Nortonville,” answered George. 

“I tell you what I do,” said the man at 
last. “There is no train for three hour. I 
take you all the way for ten dollar. Pay 
me what you have now and give me the reast 
when you get there.” 

“All right,” said George wearily, “I’ll 
do it.” 


152 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

With great difficulty George pulled him- 
self up on the shafts, over the high side, and 
let himself down on to the hard seat. The 
horse started and the springless wagon began 
its jolting way, the driver looking straight 
ahead. Now and again he would turn and 
ask a question. Each time it was the same 
suspicious query. “You pay me the reast 
when you get there ? ” Each time George 
answered affirmatively and each time the 
man turned and drove stolidly on. Little by 
little the steady pain in the boy's leg gained 
mastery. Jolt after jolt, borne uncomplain- 
ingly, added increasing agony, till at last 
the road grew blurred to the eye, the bare 
branches of the waving trees joined in a 
confused whole which swayed, menacing, 
below an angry sky and then everything grew 
black together. With a long sigh George 
Norton fell from his place to the floor of the 
cart unconscious. As he fell his head struck 
sharply on the boards. 

The peasant looked around, a gleam of 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


153 

interest in his dull eyes. Speaking to his 
passenger sharply he tried to rouse him by 
voice, and then shook him roughly by the arm. 
The limp body gave no response. The white 
eyelids remained tightly closed. Finally, with 
a shrug of his shoulders, the man desisted, 
stopped his horse, and began systematically 
going through the pockets of the lad. The 
outer pockets were filled with the samples 
from the lake. These he replaced with an 
impatient shrug. Finding George’s purse 
he coolly transferred it to his own pocket, 
appropriated his pen and handkerchief, re- 
jected his keys, but accepted his scarf pin. 
When he had satisfied himself that he had all 
the available property which his unfortunate 
passenger possessed, he rose, lifted George 
to his shoulder like a sack of flour, took him 
from the wagon and deposited him without 
ceremony beside the road in a spot half hidden 
in the underbrush. Without a backward 
glance the man returned to the wagon, 
clambered in and started off at the same jog 


154 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
trot. The scene of the robbery was silent as 
before, the only change a crumpled heap in 
the foreground that lay beside a clump of 
shrubs, and a crimson scarf that fluttered 
in the wind. A woodpecker lighted on the 
leather jacket, then, as it rose and fell with 
the slight breath, flew off in sudden terror 
only to hover around in curiosity when it 
saw that the movement was regular, unchang- 
ing as that of the branches above, swaying 
pendulum-like in the breeze. 


CHAPTER NINE 

The woodpecker lighted again, drawn by 
the crimson scarf which, for the time quies- 
cent, showed like a stain of blood below the 
white face. Scarcely was the bird still, be- 
fore it rose again, flying far away, startled 
by the sound of wheels and of horse's hoofs 
in the distance. Nearer and nearer the 
sound approached, now differentiated into two 
sources, one the wagon's normal dissonance 
and the other a loud and merry whistle. 
The figure beside the road gave no sign of 
life as the covered Concord wagon rolled 
towards it. The team neared, was just 
abreast and then, with its passenger, would 
have passed entirely oblivious of the silent 
figure had not an errant breeze caught the 
red scarf and blown it bravely into the wind. 
The straying zephyr did its errand well, for 


156 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
the blotch of color caught the eye of the 
wagon’s occupant who, looking farther, sud- 
denly ceased his tune, gave utterance to a 
loud “Whoa,” pulled up his horse vigor- 
ously, and leaped briskly from the wagon, 
revealing himself as a very different type of 
humanity from the man who had recently 
left. Clean cut, alert, neatly dressed, he 
was the city boy all over. 

Dropping the reins over the dashboard 
the newcomer walked towards the body 
slowly, apparently striving to understand the 
circumstances of the case. At his first glance 
the fluttering scarf seemed the only sign of 
motion but on the second the slow breathing 
became apparent. The new arrival knelt 
beside the unconscious form at the side of the 
road the moment he had really made sure 
that this was really a living, breathing boy, 
though an unconscious one, that lay before 
him. Valiantly this good Samaritan went 
to work. Struggle as he might, however, 
he could do nothing to rouse the form before 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 157 
him to activity. After a few minutes fruit- 
less struggle, he temporarily gave up the 
work, lifted the unresisting body with no 
slight difficulty and carried it back to his 
wagon. Once there he settled his helpless 
companion as comfortably as possible upon 
the seat and started upon his way. 

As the horse trotted on, the driver, sud- 
denly possessed of a new idea, turned and be- 
gan to search his companion’s pockets for 
some clue to his identity. None appeared. 
The peasant had done his work thoroughly, 
and as pocket after pocket gave no light on 
the problem the lad’s face lengthened. 

“Looks as if this chap, whoever he is, had 
fallen among thieves, all right,” he said to 
himself. Just then a glint of metal met his 
eye. It was George’s keychain. “There’s 
nothing in that pocket but keys, I ’m sure of 
that,” he went on. “But we may as well 
have a look at them.” Pulling out the keys 
he examined them. One had a brass tag 
upon it. “Phys. Lab. No. 81. Norton.” 


158 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“Well, that’s a starter anyway,” remarked 
the lad. “I know now that his name’s 
Norton, or at least I bet it is, and I’ll bet 
too that he has had locker 81 in some phys- 
ical laboratory. It’s up to me to pull him 
out. I guess I’ll have to put up a sign, 
‘One stranger by the name of Norton on 
hand. Apply to Jack Collerton.’ But if 
I’m going to put the sign up, I’ve got to be 
somewhere to do it; so get up, old horse, 
and hurry us to a doctor.” 

For some distance farther the two drove 
on in solitude until Jack Collerton suddenly 
heard the sound of galloping hoofs behind 
him. “Friends or enemies?” he said to 
himself. “This chap certainly doesn’t look 
as if he’d had especially friendly treatment 
lately. Guess I’m safe in pursuing the even 
tenor of my way.” As the team approached 
it became increasingly evident that the driver 
was in a frantic hurry about something. 
Jack turned to look out of the little window 
in the back of the carriage. An open wagon 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


'59 

with a single occupant was rushing towards 
him, the tired horse at full gallop and white 
with foam despite the chill of the day. The 
team came on its rocking way, the driver 
threw a hasty glance within the hood of the 
wagon and swiftly pulled up straight across 
the road in front of Jack’s team, a move 
which forced his horse to stop abruptly. 

“ Where ’re you goin’ with that boy?” 
cried the pursuer brusquely. 

Jack Collerton measured the man before 
him with a glance that took in the rough 
clothes, the heavy, somewhat brutal face, and 
the huge coarse hand which, relieved from 
its big mitten, was now wiping a wet brow. 
Then he turned swiftly to compare these 
external signs with the clean-cut, pallid 
features of the lad beside him, with the 
black suit below the leather jacket and with 
the slender powerful hands in the gauntlets. 
His mind made up, he answered the rude 
interrogation with a suave courtesy. 

“With sincere appreciation of your in- 


160 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
terest in our behalf,” he said, “my friend 
and I are out for a little drive. He’s not 
feeling well, unfortunately, and we’re hurry- 
ing home, so if you’ll be good enough to 
get out of our way?” The rising inflection 
and the ironical tone of the words seemed 
peculiarly irritating to the other party to the 
conversation. 

“Oh! Stow it!” interrupted the ob- 
structor of the highway angrily. “That’s 
my son an’ I’m goin’ to take him home. I 
don’t know where you found him, but if 
you don’t want to get into trouble you’d 
better quit this.” 

“How unfortunate that I should have 
made such an error,” answered Jack in his 
most courteous tone. “And your name, 
Mr. — ?” 

“Abner,” began the man unthinkingly, and 
then paused. “ Smith,” he ended jerkily as he 
clambered down over the side of the wagon. 

“And your son’s name,” went on Jack, 
casually. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 161 

“John Smith/’ answered Abner with a 
lowering face. “Now, that’s all. I won’t 
answer any more questions. Help me to 
get that boy into my wagon.” 

“Glad to oblige Mr. er — Smith,” an- 
swered Jack in flute-like tones. “Just move 
your horse a bit to one side so I can cramp 
the buggy wheels.” 

Abner looked at the lad’s face searchingly, 
but finding it calm as a summer morning he 
turned with a snarl and jerked the horse’s 
head to one side. As he did so Jack, seizing 
the whip, brought it down full force on his 
horse, who leaped forward and through the 
narrow space. As he passed, the lad, lean- 
ing out, gave another cut to Abner’s horse, 
who reared and shied, sending the wagon 
over the gully at the roadside and over- 
turning it. With a fierce expletive, Abner 
dropped the bridle and started to run on 
foot after the rapidly disappearing Concord 
wagon. Man power, however, was not up 
to horse power. The pursuer was soon 


ii 


162 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
forced to give up the chase, and the last view 
Jack had of him showed him standing and 
shaking his fist at the retreating pair. 

“I hope that wasn’t a bad break,” said 
Jack Collerton as he let the horse assume 
a somewhat normal gait. “But I’m in- 
clined to believe that man meant trouble. 
Certainly I could n’t bear to leave this chap 
with him, anyway. He needs a doctor 
sudden.” 

The rest of the trip to Jack’s stopping 
place was uneventful, though night had long 
fallen before the little hamlet with its weather- 
beaten hotel came into sight. A shambling 
youth, the only apparent inhabitant of the 
town, busily engaged in holding up one of 
the posts of the veranda, left his task will- 
ingly to observe the newcomers by the light 
of the big square lantern that hung beside 
the door. One glance was enough, and he 
hurried towards the door shouting, “Missus 
Boyle ! Missus Boyle ! Here ’s th’ balloon man 
kim back with a dead man in the kerrige.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 163 

A bustling, good-natured woman hurried 
to the door as Jack pulled up. A loutish 
farm hand came around the corner at the 
same time and between the three of them 
they managed to get George up the stairs 
and to bed. He had never waked from his 
swoon. 

The stout landlady looked at the boy 
compassionately. 

“ Friend of yours, Mr. Collerton? ,, she 
inquired. 

“No,” said Jack. “Nobody I ever saw 
before. Found him unconscious as I drove 
back. Now I want a doctor. There is n’t 
a minute to lose. Where’s the nearest 
one?” 

“Isn’t but one here, Dr. Appleby,” an- 
swered the landlady. “I’ll send for him 
right away.” 

“No!” said Jack quickly. “You stay 
here with this chap. I’ll go. Where is he ?” 

“Third house down on the first road off 
to the right,” replied the landlady. The 


164 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
words were hardly out of her mouth before 
Jack was racing down the stairs. 

Out into the village street and up towards 
the physician’s house Jack hurried through 
the darkness. Five minutes brought him 
to the cross road, two minutes more and he 
saw the little transparent sign showing its 
letters of dingy black against the lighted 
windowpane. A gray bearded, slender man 
with a simple kindly face opened the door 
in response to his eager knock. 

“Dr. Appleby?” cried Jack, breathlessly. 

“I am Dr. Appleby,” answered the gray 
bearded man. 

In a few hasty words Jack told his errand. 
Before his tale was half completed Dr. Ap- 
pleby had on his hat and coat and was hurry- 
ing out of the door. Country doctors, those 
sentinels of the countryside, have their 
receptive powers strongly developed when 
stories of sickness or injury reach them. 
As they neared the hotel Jack said rapidly, 
“This chap does n’t seem to have any money 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 165 
with him. I think he’s been robbed. By 
the look of his clothes he’s got plenty; but if 
he has n’t I can pay, if it’s not too much.” 

Dr. Appleby grunted. “Huh!” he said. 
“That’s the last thing to worry about so far 
as I’m concerned. I’d be a pretty doctor, I 
must say, waiting round to find out whether 
a sick man had money enough to pay me 
or not. We don’t do things that way, young 
man.” 

They were inside the hotel now and up 
the stairs. Once within the room Dr. Ap- 
pleby never paused a moment. His hat 
went on to a chair, his coat fell to the floor as 
he crossed to the bed. Open came the worn 
blackened bag. Eagerly the old physician 
scanned the young face, then turned to his 
work. 

It was some time before George stirred, 
but at last he opened his eyes wearily, then 
shut them again and seemed to be dropping 
back into unconsciousness. The physician 
bent to the attack once more and this time 


1 66 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


met with success. George woke, looked 
around him with a startled glance at the 
bare hotel room with its stiff bureau and 
washstand, its bare walls and braided rug 
lighted by an unshaded kerosene lamp, then, 
narrowing his gaze, he looked still dazedly 
at the slender lad at the foot of the bed and 
at the doctor leaning forward in the rigid 
rocking chair beside him. “Where am I?” 
he stammered. 

“With friends in the small town of Mont- 
view,” answered Jack, cheerily. “This is 
Dr. Appleby, who’s been working over you 
to bring you round again, and I’m Jack Col- 
lerton. Found you laid up on the road as I 
came driving along,” Jack paused. 

“My name’s George Norton,” said George 
slowly. “I can’t seem to understand how I 
got here. I feel dazed and sleepy.” 

“Sleep is the best thing for you now,” 
said Dr. Appleby. “Come on, Mr. Collerton. 
Suppose we step out and let Mr. Norton 
rest.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 167 

Only too glad to accept the opportunity 
George closed his eyes and was asleep almost 
before the others had left the room. 

“Send me word as soon as he wakes up,” 
whispered Dr. Appleby as he and Jack stood 
outside the door. “I’ve given him some- 
thing quieting and he’ll sleep through the 
night now. When he does rouse I think 
he’ll wake up all right as regards his head, 
but he’s got a bad leg there. He won’t 
walk for quite a while.” 

Jack nodded as he watched Dr. Appleby 
make his way slowly down the creaking 
stairs. 

There was no question that George Norton 
was able to sleep through the night. Morn- 
ing came, nine, ten, eleven o’clock, and still 
he slept the sleep of utter weariness. Dr. 
Appleby called at intervals, and in response 
to Jack’s somewhat anxious questions merely 
responded, “Pooh! Pooh! Let him sleep. 
Best thing that could happen to him,” and 
ended the conversation there. 


1 68 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

It was three o’clock in the afternoon be- 
fore the patient watcher heard a sound from 
within the room. Then he heard a slight 
movement and an involuntary exclamation 
of pain. He rose and entered to find George 
wide awake, fully returned to consciousness. 

“ Hullo, Norton,” he said. “Let me in- 
troduce myself once more now you’re really 
awake. You certainly are a great hand at 
sleeping, though. You’ve nearly slept the 
clock around. I’m Jack Collerton,” he 
went on introducing himself, “working just 
at present as assistant on an air ship and 
brought out here by an ill wind that blew 
us miles out of our way and dropped us un- 
ceremoniously. My boss has gone off for 
a valve and I ’m stranded here waiting round 
for him. Drove over about ten miles for 
some stuff, and ran across you lying side of 
the road as I came back. Met a man on 
the way back who tried to get hold of you. 
Short, thick-set farmer who claimed you 
were his son. Said his name was Abner 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 169 
something. Could n’t believe it so I took 
the chances and rushed you by him. Brought 
you here and got the doctor. He pulled you 
out and here you are. That’s all my yarn.” 
Jack paused suggestively. 

George painfully turned on his side and 
examined his visitor. He liked the clear-cut 
lines of the mouth, the square-cut chiii, 
and the frank blue eyes of the lad before 
him. The face and the trim, well set-up 
figure were calculated to inspire confidence. 
George smiled a trifle painfully. 

“I’m no end obliged to you, Collerton,” 
he said gratefully. “I’ve been through some 
rather hard times lately. A lot of them 
came from the man you must have met. 
But now where am I and how near is this 
place to Nortonville ? ” 

“I don’t know the country here,” said 
Jack. “Wait and I’ll find out.” 

He was gone but a few moments. “It’s 
about fifteen miles from here by road, they 
say,” he remarked when he returned. 


170 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“And now what time is it?” George 
went on. 

“About three o’clock in the afternoon,” 
Jack responded. 

George’s face fell. “As late as that,” he 
said. “I might have known it though, by 
the fading light. I don’t see how I could 
have slept so long. No use in worrying, but 
there’s one thing sure, — I’ve got to get to 
Nortonville to-night. I have n’t a minute to 
lose.” As he spoke he rose and tried to step 
upon his injured leg only to fall back upon 
the bed with a groan. Jack hurried forward. 

“Hold on, old man,” he said. “Don’t try 
anything like that until the doctor has been 
here and looked at you again. He’ll be here 
in just a minute. I sent for him as soon as I 
knew you had waked up. Here he is now,” 
he went on. “ There ’s his step on the stairs.” 

The little doctor entered and busied him- 
self at once with the patient before him. 
George let him examine the injury, patiently 
answered his questions, and gave him time 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 171 
for consideration before he put his problem 
before him. 

“Now, Doctor,” he said at last, “you’ve 
looked the whole thing over. What I want 
you to do is to get me in shape so I can go 
to Nortonville to-night. I must leave there 
on to-night’s express.” 

Dr. Appleby shook his head with a gesture 
of finality. 

“If you try to leave your bed for twenty- 
four hours,” he said authoritatively, “I 
don’t think you’ll ever use that leg again. 
Day after to-morrow we might get you to 
Nortonville, but not before.” 

George, staggered by this unexpected blow, 
was silent. There was not a moment to be 
lost. Every minute counted if the Belgian’s 
contract was to be secured, and here he was 
chained to a bed in a country inn. He re- 
turned to the charge again. “Do you feel 
positive that this injury may be as serious 
as that, Doctor?” he queried, his tone 
quivering with anxiety. 


172 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“Absolutely positive/’ answered Dr. Ap- 
pleby. George thought quickly. There 
might be some way around it. Certainly 
the contract would have to go if it was a 
question between the contract and his leg. 
But there must be some way out. Time to 
think was what he needed now. He turned 
to the doctor. “All right, Doctor,” he said. 
“I’ll accept that for the present. Go ahead 
and do what you can for me.” 

Deftly the doctor caught up the torn liga- 
ments with surgeon’s plaster. Swiftly he 
bandaged the leg with close wound bandage. 
At the end he stepped back, looking at his 
handiwork with a touch of the craftsman’s 
pride. 

“That’s a very pretty case,” he remarked 
reflectively. “I’ll be around again, Mr. 
Norton, in the course of a few hours.” He 
turned to Jack. “Mr. Collerton, could I 
see you for an instant ? ” and the doctor led 
the way to the door. 

Jack followed on in some wonderment. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


m 

a wonderment which increased when the 
doctor, carefully closing the door of George’s 
room, asked him in an undertone, “ Which 
is your room, Mr. Collerton ? ” 

“ Right here, next door,” answered Jack, 
and they entered. 

Dr. Appleby closed the door behind him 
and then stepped close to Jack. 

“Mr. Collerton,” he began in a low voice, 
“how much do you know about this young 
man in the next room ? ” 

“Very little,” responded Jack in some sur- 
prise. “I know his name is George Norton. 
You heard him tell us so. I found him lying 
injured and unconscious beside the road a 
few miles back and brought him here. I 
told you he had nothing in his pockets but 
his keys. I did meet a man on the way who 
tried to work a bluff about this being his son, 
but that was nonsense.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Dr. 
Appleby, shaking his head. “I’ve had a 
visitor, a very respectable man, since I saw 


174 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
you, who happened to see you drive up here 
with the patient. He knows the story of 
this boy, and I imagine this man whom you 
met is his father after all. The boy is an un- 
grateful, worthless scamp, according to my 
informant, who has gone off to be a chauffeur 
and who is utterly unreliable in every way. 
He claims to be George Norton of the 
Norton Glass Company, the company that 
built Norton ville, but his real name is John 
Smith. Now there’s no use in your saying 
anything about this but I felt that you might 
be imposed upon and ought to know it.” 

“What are your grounds for believing 
this, Dr. Appleby?” asked Jack slowly. 

The doctor hesitated. “ Why — er, really,” 
he replied, “only the very apparent relia- 
bility of the man who told it to me. Have 
you anything except this fellow’s word to 
go on yourself? Has he any means of iden- 
tifying himself?” 

“No,” said Jack, hesitatingly, 
has n’t.” 


“He 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 175 
“Then I’d be pretty careful how far I 
went in the matter,” remarked Dr. Appleby, 
turning to leave the room. 

As the doctor started away Jack had a sud- 
den thought. “Oh! Doctor,” he cried, “one 
moment. Is his leg really as bad as you said ? ” 
The little doctor turned angrily. “Of 
course it is,” he snapped. “You don’t think 
a story like that would make me do an un- 
professional thing, do you? I don’t care 
what a man is personally, I’ll do all I can 
for him. I only wanted to warn you.” 

The doctor made his way down the creak- 
ing stairs and Jack turned back to George’s 
room. He entered to find George gazing 
fixedly at him. Without a word the lad on 
the bed pointed to an old stovepipe hole 
directly above his head that led through to 
Jack’s chamber, acting in reality as a private 
speaking tube leading from room to room. 

“Collerton, how much do you believe of 
what the doctor told you?” asked George. 


CHAPTER TEN 


Jack gave a short laugh. “Not one 
solitary word of it,” he responded. “I saw 
that man yesterday and heard him talk,” he 
added significantly. 

George leaned back upon his pillow with a 
sigh of relief. “I did n’t believe you would,” 
he said. “But I must confess I feel better 
to hear you say that. Now I need your help. 
I’ve got a long story to tell. If you’ll make 
sure your door’s locked so that no one can 
listen through the stovepipe hole, I’ll tell it 
to you.” 

Twilight had passed into night and the 
supper bell had sounded before George ended 
the story of his adventures, of the contract, of 
the lake and of his imprisonment at the farm. 
“I think I understand it all,” he ended, 
“ except your finding me beside the road. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


177 

My last recollection is of sitting in the cart 
and of growing suddenly dizzy. What the 
driver did to me after that I don’t know.” 

“I can tell you that,” remarked Jack 
briefly. “He robbed you of all your money 
and valuables and left you beside the road.” 

George started up only to be sent back 
again by a twinge of pain. “Give me my 
leather coat,” he cried. 

Jack quickly handed it to him and George 
to his infinite relief found there the samples 
of the white powder he had so carefully 
preserved. 

“You don’t seem as much worried as you 
did,” remarked Jack as he saw the look of 
contentment spread over George’s face. 

“Oh, things are bad enough,” remarked 
George. “But they might be such a lot 
worse. That is the stuff I went for, you see, 
and these are the samples I must get to an 
analytical chemist the first moment possible.” 

Jack sat for a while in silence and then 

began to review the situation. “As far as I 
— 12 


x 


178 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
can see/’ he said, “ you’re up against this 
proposition: You’re tied down here with 
a bad leg so you can’t go to hunt up a chemist. 
You’ve got to get hold of a chemist right off 
to make sure whether or not there’s anything 
up to the lake that will help you make glass, 
since it’s only by finding something there 
that you can hope to meet the price. If you 
delay even a very short time you’ll lose your 
contract.” 

“That’s about the size of it,” responded 
George from the gloom of the bed. “It’s 
a pretty hard proposition. I know just the 
chemist for the job, my old adviser at Camp- 
erdown College, Dr. Fisher. He’s a corker. 
Knows his work through and through and 
I think he ’d come. But who to send ? That ’s 
the problem. Barnard would be all right 
but he’s got some big cases on beside my 
work and I can’t be sure he could go and I 
don’t want to take Howes from the factory. 
He’s hardly convincing enough as a pleader, 
anyway.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 179 

For a second, but only a second, Jack 
hesitated. “I’ll tell you, George. We 
have n’t known each other very long but I 
think we’ve come to know each other pretty 
well considering the time. I ’ll go to Camper- 
down if you want me to, and if there’s any 
way of doing it I’ll bring Dr. Fisher back 
with me. I ’m tied up here for a week or more 
with nothing to do. The only trouble is that 
I have n’t got money enough to go far and 
you have n’t a cent.” 

“ Money enough to get to Camperdown is 
a simple proposition, once you get to Norton- 
ville,” said George. “ Howes or Barnard will 
give you plenty on a letter from me and you 
can tell them at the same time where I am and 
how to send for me. The main point is that 
you feel you can go. It’s a great thing for 
me if you can.” 

Ten minutes more of discussion put Jack 
in touch with the few points of which George 
had not already spoken with him. Those 
affairs settled he went downstairs to get some- 


180 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
thing to eat and to arrange for a team to 
Nortonville. George in the meantime was to 
write full descriptions of the way to reach the 
lake in the wood-lot from the train, a letter 
to Professor Fisher, and credentials to Mr. 
Barnard and to Mr. Howes. 

Jack returned with the invalid’s light even- 
ing meal on a tray, took the letters, made 
packages of the samples, and brought his cap 
and overcoat from the next room. He was 
ready for departure. 

“Goodby, George,” he said as he stood by 
the bedside. “ Don’t worry. Get better as 
rapidly as you can.” 

“ Goodby, Jack,” said George with a warm 
grip of the hand. “Take care of yourself. 
You’re doing one of the best things for me 
anybody ever did in my life and I don’t want 
anything to happen to you.” 

“ I ’ll be all right. Never fear,” scoffed J ack. 
“You’re the one that needs to look out for 
himself, and don’t you worry but that I ’ll bring 
Dr. Fisher back,” he ended as he left the room. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 181 

As Jack Collerton passed out towards the 
kitchen he met the hostess of the inn just 
coming down the stairs. “Oh, Mr. Coller- 
ton, she cried as she saw him standing in the 
hall below, “can you harness your team for 
yourself? You can take the big gray. He 
has n’t been out to-day and he’s good for a 
long trip. Mike has got hurt and I’ve sent 
him to bed. He ain’t fit to harness up. Can 
you help yourself, and can you find your 
way ? ” 

“Surest thing you ever knew,” answered 
Jack cheerily. “Give me a lantern. That’s 
all I want.” 

The lantern was easily provided and Jack, 
turning up his coat collar and pulling his 
cap’s vizor over his eyes, stepped out into the 
cool black night and crossed directly to the 
barn. The dim light made the old barn, 
commonplace enough by day, a place of 
mystery by night. Only the composite 
barny smell which greeted his nostrils as he 
entered seemed familiar. Jack placed his 


1 82 FOR THE NORTON NAME 


lantern on the floor and stepping forward 
to the stall slapped the old gray horse, who 
lumbered to one side as the boy walked 
within to untie the halter. He entered and 
started back. A form which had been lurk- 
ing in the shadow of the empty stall beside 
him moved forward and addressed him in a 
low tone. 

“Are you the boy that is going to drive Mr. 
Collerton to Nortonville ? ” came the query in 
a by no means uneducated voice. 

“Oi am,” responded Jack quickly, falling 
directly into the stable boy’s brogue. 

“ Do you want to earn ten dollars easily ? ” 
was the next question. 

“Oi do,” was Jack’s reply, still in his as- 
sumed character. 

A shadowy arm came over the edge of the 
stall. “Here’s a ten-dollar bill. All you 
need to do is to take your passenger just 
the opposite way from Nortonville, turn 
wherever you can and lose him. Will you 
do it?” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 183 

“Oi will,” answered Jack, taking the bill. 
“Oi don’t loike him,” he added gratuitously. 

“ That’s good,” murmured the form with a 
slight chuckle, then, silently as it had ap- 
peared, it departed. 

Jack, deep in thought, continued his har- 
nessing, put heavy robes into the Concord 
wagon, led out the horse, closed the door, and 
started on his way, his lighted lantern casting 
shifting lights around him as the horse jogged 
on. His imagination, roused by the meeting 
in the stable, peopled the wayside with active 
foes, made him now a scout entering the 
enemy’s territories, now a messenger bearing 
despatches of utmost importance to a be- 
leaguered city, now a detective relentlessly 
pursuing some clue to a great crime. Again 
and again as the minutes passed he thought 
he heard the rattle of a wagon far ahead and 
rose, peering into the darkness. Each time he 
was forced to the conclusion that the sounds 
were merely those of the countryside at night. 

The lights of Nortonville were not extin- 


184 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
guished when Jack entered the village street, 
beyond whose limits the yellow window 
squares of the glass factory shone out in 
unmistakable relief against the background 
of the hills. The lad drove straight for those 
twinkling lights. There was at least an even 
chance, George had told him, that Mr. Howes 
would be at the factory up to eleven o’clock, 
and as he drove down to the entrance he saw 
that a door was open whose yellow lane of 
light disclosed, as he drew nearer, a wagon 
drawn up in front of the building and two 
men standing in earnest colloquy with a third 
who was bending forward out of a team. 
In their interest they quite disregarded the 
newcomer, and Jack could hear their words 
clearly through the still night. 

“Of course it’s nothing to me either way, 
gen’l’men. There’s the body and here’s you 
trying to find out what’s become of young 
Mr. Norton. You hain’t offered no reward 
so I can’t claim anythin’ nor should n’t if 
you had. All I’m doin’ this for is neigh- 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 185 
borly kindness anyhow.” That was the first 
voice. 

“I believe I must go, Mr. Howes. Any- 
thing would be better than this suspense. Of 
course I can’t believe it is his body but there 
are so many things that seem as if it must be. 
I must go. That is all there is to it.” That 
was the second voice. 

“I know how you feel. I know how you 
feel, Mr. Barnard. But I think you’d better 
send some one of the men. Now we’ve lost 
George, I don’t know where I am, and if 
anything should happen to you — ” the sen- 
tence was left unfinished. That was the third 
voice. 

“ Nonsense, Mr. Howes. I ’m in no danger 
in just taking a short ride with this man. 
Come, friend, let’s lose no more time; turn 
your horse so I can get in ; ” and the wagon 
wheel scraped against the fender as the 
wheels turned. 

As Mr. Barnard stepped forward an eager 
cry came from the approaching wagon. 


i86 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


“Mr. Barnard. Oh, Mr. Barnard. George’s 
alive and will be all right soon. I’m Jack 
Collerton and I have a letter from him.” 

As he spoke J ack saw the man in the wagon 
lean forward and reach out a hand over 
Mr. Barnard who, quite unconscious of the 
menacing arm, had turned eagerly at the 
coming of the glad news. The threatening 
movement seemed almost involuntary, and a 
second later the arm was withdrawn while 
the man sank back into his seat. Mr. Howes 
and Mr. Barnard both hurried towards Jack 
with confused questions coming in a perfect 
stream. Jack leaped to the ground, threw out 
the weight to hitch his horse and blanketed 
him. 

“Let’s get into the factory,” he said. 
“Then I can give you the letters and tell 
you all about it.” 

The two men, one on each side, hurried 
him up the lane of light and into the office, 
Mr. Barnard stopping at the door to call 
back to the man in the wagon. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 187 

“Hitch your horse and come in, friend. I 
want to give you something for your trouble 
anyway.” 

“All right. I’ll be in in a minute,” came 
the response. 

Once in the office Jack delivered his letters 
and swiftly outlined the situation, the two 
men listening and questioning eagerly. As 
he ended Mr. Barnard rose and took out his 
long black wallet. He counted out a hundred 
dollars and handed it over. “There you are, 
Mr. Collerton,” he said. “Mr. Howes and I 
appreciate what you have done for George 
Norton more than I can say. I am very glad 
you can go to find Dr. Fisher. I shall go 
straight to George to-night and Mr. Howes is 
needed here. There is work for three men 
in this.” He had started to fold his wallet 
and return it to his pocket when a sudden 
thought struck him. He opened it again and 
drew out a ten-dollar bill. “There,” he went 
on remorsefully, “I completely forgot our 
friend outside who thought he brought news 


1 88 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

of George. I wonder why he did n’t come 
in.” He started towards the door. 

“One moment, Mr. Barnard,” broke in 
Jack. “How about my train?” 

“That’s all right,” said Mr. Howes. 
“I’ve been keeping my eye on the clock. 
With your team outside you can do it easily. 
I’ll jump in with you and we’ll drive right 
over.” 

The three men emerged from the door and 
stopped in amazement. 

“Why, where’s the man?” exclaimed Mr. 
Barnard. 

“And where’s Mr. Collerton’s team?” 
ejaculated Mr. Howes. 

“The rascal’s gone and taken my team 
with him. It ’s a trick,” shouted Jack. “I 
must run for it. Which way ? ” 

“Hold on,” cried Mr. Howes. “You can’t 
make the station in time on foot. I must get 
a team. I’m afraid you’ll lose even then.” 

As he spoke a bent form came hurrying up 
through the darkness. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 189 

“Is it th’ wagon that’s the matther, Mr. 
Howes ? ” came the. question. 

“Yes, John, it is,” replied Mr. Barnard 
quickly. “ Do you know anything about it ? ” 

“Shure an 5 I do,” replied old John. “I 
was jist cornin’ up th’ road whin th’ two 
teams started off. Phwich was it yez was 
after wantin’, the side bar buggy or th’ 
kivered Concord ? ” 

“The Concord,” answered Jack quickly. 

“Th’ Concord wint down th’ loop road,” 
said old John. “Th’ side bar wint towards 
th’ village.” 

“Then we’ve got him,” ejaculated Mr. 
Howes. “Come on, Mr. Collerton. The 
loop road goes down to the bridge and then 
comes right back on the other side of the 
river. We can go right across the top of the 
old dam, then through the woods and catch 
’em on the other side of the river. From there 
we can drive straight over to the next station, 
Greendale, and catch the express. Come on, 
Mr. Collerton.” 


190 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

The words were hardly out of Mr. Howes’ 
mouth before Jack had started and the two 
swung rapidly down, back of the factory, and 
towards the river. They were followed by 
a hearty “Good luck” from Mr. Barnard 
and a warning “Look out f’r th’ wit boords, 
Mister Howes,” from old John. “Here, take 
me lanthern,” he added as he ran after them. 
They paused for a moment to seize the lighted 
lantern and then redoubled their pace. 

As they hurried on Jack could hear the 
water tumbling over the dam and falling on 
the rocks below. The stream, swelled by the 
autumn rains, was high, and as they neared 
the river the noise resounded thunderously 
through the still night. Jack looked at the 
passage with some misgiving as he ap- 
proached. On the left, the lantern light was 
reflected in the still waters of the milldam. 
On the right, the water, falling in spray, 
showed silver. Below, a filmy mist rose 
from jagged rocks. There was a narrow 
passageway across the dam made of a single 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 19 1 
loosely-laid board bordered by a slender and 
somewhat rickety hand rail. The wet path 
glistened in the light and the distance from 
bank to bank seemed magnified into a long 
road. 

Mr. Howes, himself, hesitated as he 
reached the dam. 

“I don’t know,” he began doubtfully, “as 
you ought to try to cross here, Mr. Collerton. 
It’s most too much for anybody who’s not 
used to it. I know every foot of the way but 
it’s pretty risky. That hand rail’s kind of 
rotten.” 

“Only way to catch the train, isn’t it,” 
responded Jack. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Howes. 

“I told George I’d do this and I’m going 
to put it through,” remarked Jack quietly. 
“I’m pretty well used to ticklish places. 
I ’ve worked on balloons for more than a year 
now. Go ahead.” 

Steadily and slowly they started over, 
lightly touching the rail for steadiness. Used 


192 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
as Jack was to climbing without a quiver 
over the rigging of the ships that sail among 
the clouds, this short passage seemed filled 
with unusual terrors. On the balloon the 
earth seemed so far away that danger from 
falling seemed fanciful. Here, the rocks 
below, responding to the fall of waters, were 
too concrete not to bring a thrill. But he 
passed steadily on, passed one space where 
the hand rail had sagged far outward, giving 
not even its former support, and in a few 
seconds the passage was over. 

The pace was swifter now. Mr. Howes 
traversing the well-known way pushed rapidly 
forward, Jack close at his heels. They had 
been travelling perhaps a quarter of an hour 
when the narrow path suddenly opened into 
a road and the leader stopped, listened, and 
quickly extinguished his lantern. “Here we 
are,” he said, “and in good time too. There’s 
a team just coming along the road. It’ll be 
here in five minutes.” A sudden thought 
struck him : “ If this really was a put-up job,” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 193 
he remarked anxiously, “ perhaps the man in 
that wagon is armed. I wish I’d brought my 
revolver from the office.” 

Jack thought quickly. “So long as you 
have n’t, suppose we get a couple of cudgels,” 
he said. “There’s a couple of minutes any- 
way before he gets here. I ’ve got a big knife 
in my pocket and I’ll tell you what, when 
he comes you jump for the horse’s bridle and 
I’ll jump for the wagon. We’ll catch him 
before he knows what is happening.” 

“All right,” said Mr. Howes. 

It took but a minute to cut off two stout 
sticks and with these in hand they waited 
for the approaching team. Nearer and 
nearer it came. Jack could feel his heart 
pounding against his ribs with excitement as 
he peered into the darkness to see whether it 
was the big gray or not, and he started like a 
restive horse as Mr. Howes, moving beside 
him, snapped a twig. He looked still more 
closely. It was the big gray and the Concord 
wagon. 


13 


194 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“Now,” cried Jack, and the two sprang 
forward. Howes seized the bridle and Jack 
jumped for the dark interior of the wagon, 
his stick clenched hard. 

A despairing childish wail rent the air. 
“Boo hoo — Boo hoo.” More stupefied by 
this unexpected result than if they had been 
attacked by bandits, the sticks of the pair 
fell limp. Jack heard the clang of a lantern 
being raised, the scratch of a match, and then 
saw the gleam spring out, faintly illumining 
the road. He peered within the Concord’s 
top. There, shrinking into a corner, weeping 
as though his heart would break, was a small 
eight-year-old boy. Mr. Howes sprang for- 
ward and stared into the tear-stained face. 

“Why, it’s Eddy Caines,” he exclaimed, 
stepping into the wagon. The frightened 
child shrank away with a wild access of fear. 
Mr. Howes spoke again. “ Why, Eddy dear,” 
he said, “this is Mr. Howes. Don’t you 
know me ? We would n’t hurt you for any- 
thing. It’s Mr. Howes, Eddy. Mr. Howes.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 195 
The child frightened out of his senses still 
wept and still shrank away from the friendly 
arm. Howes looked around in dismay. 
Suddenly he put his hand in his pocket and 
pulled out a small paper bag from which he 
drew a piece of gayly striped candy. 

“Eddy, here’s the candy,” he said. “Why 
did n’t you stop and get it to-night ?” 

The sight of the candy did what nothing 
else could. The sobs began to cease and Mr. 
Howes recognizing the need for haste cried 
out: 

“Jump in, Mr. Collerton. I’ll get an 
explanation as we go on.” 

In a moment they were off, Mr. Howes 
driving, with the small boy on his knee, and 
doing three things at one and the same time, 

— hurrying the horse, comforting the child, 
and explaining to Jack. 

“ Gid ap there — Now, Eddy, that’s right 

— you try some of that candy — You 
see, Mr. Collerton, his big brother’s sick — 
Gid ap there — and he had to come down — 


196 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
Yes, Eddy, that’s a good boy. It’s all right 
now — with his father’s lunch box — Yes, 
Eddy, it’s all right now — Gid ap, gid ap 
— and it’s a long road round the loop at 
night for a little chap — Gid ap, gid ap — 
isn’t it, Eddy? But it’s all right now, it’s 
all right now. Can’t you tell Mr. Howes 
how you came to be in the team?” 

The convulsive heaving of the breast was 
lessened now and the story gradually grew. 
A man in a wagon had told Eddy he would 
give him a dollar to take the team home and 
keep it overnight. Here was the dollar, and a 
big silver cart-wheel came out. So he took it 
and drove home and then they scared him so, 
and here was his house. 

That was all they could learn, and probably 
all there was to learn, though Jack and Mr. 
Howes discussed the matter well after Eddy 
had been safely deposited in his own door- 
yard. 

Now and again Mr. Howes looked at his 
watch anxiously as he drove rapidly along, 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 197 
and it was with a sigh of no small relief that 
he saw the lights of the little station at Green- 
dale ahead of him. 

“ We’ve made it, Mr. Collerton, in spite of 
everything. There’s the train just whistling 
now,” he exclaimed. 

A cordial grasp of the hand and a hearty 
“Good by,” the onrush of the express, a short 
stop, and the train started on. Jack was on 
his way to Camperdown and Dr. Fisher. 


CHAPTER ELEVEN 


The gray stone building which held the 
chemical laboratory of Camperdown Col- 
lege had a somewhat unusual visitor the 
morning after George’s accident. The first 
yawning janitor who came up the path, 
shivering with the autumn chill, found upon 
the steps a weary youth whose eyes showed 
want of sleep and whose garb was wrinkled 
and dishevelled. As the janitor approached 
the visitor rose and addressed him. 

“Where can I find Professor Fisher?” 

“You’ll find him here at nine,” replied 
the janitor. 

“But I want him earlier. Where does he 
live?” 

“I don’t know where he’s living now. 
His family is away and he’s living with one 
of the other professors, but I don’t know 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


199 

where,” said the janitor. "Don’t you want 
to come inside and wait for him ?” 

"No, I’ll wait here and perhaps somebody 
will come along who can tell me where he 
is,” the visitor, no other than Jack Collerton, 
replied. 

The janitor passed in and the boy re- 
sumed his watch. Every passing student, 
instructor, or janitor heard the same query 
for the next hour, and each and all returned 
a negative reply. Apparently the professor’s 
residence that morning was well concealed. 
A little after eight Jack saw a short, brisk 
man, with a close-cropped mustache, strid- 
ing along towards him, swinging his stick as 
he came. Once more the question was re- 
peated, and this time, to the great surprise 
and delight of the questioner, back came 
the answer, — 

"I am Professor Fisher. What can I do 
for you ? ” 

"I have a letter here from Mr. George 
Norton,” said Jack with a breath of relief. 


200 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
“I am John Collerton, a friend of his. Did 
you get a telegram from me?” 

“Yes, I did, and I remember Mr. Norton 
well. Come inside, Mr. Collerton.” 

They entered the big laboratory with its 
rows of bare tables topped with shining 
reagent bottles, passed down an aisle and 
entered Professor Fisher’s office. Jack de- 
livered his letter in silence and sat down. 
The professor opened it and read as follows : 

Dear Professor Fisher : 

I have found a lake on our property which I think 
may contain something valuable. It contains, roughly, 
two square miles, and along its entire shore a powder 
is found like that which Mr. Collerton will show you. 
I believe that my father felt that either the powder or 
some other thing there had great value, and I am most 
anxious to have you come up at once with Mr. 
Collerton, see the lake for yourself, and make an 
analysis of its contents. 

Dr. Fisher had read so far and then 
paused. The last line was an unreadable 
scrawl, but the signature was evidently that 
of George Norton. Dr. Fisher looked up 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 201 

inquiringly and handed the letter to the 
boy. 

“I cannot make out that last line.” 

Jack looked at the sheet. “I can’t, either. 
Poor George was in bad shape as I left,” he 
said. “That is why he did n’t come himself. 
He had hurt himself badly in a fall.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Dr. Fisher. 
“I’m sorry, too, that I cannot do as he re- 
quests, but it will be impossible to leave col- 
lege for a week.” 

“But you must come,” broke in Jack. 
“George has a big contract which he must 
get or his mill will go down. He must know 
where he stands to-morrow night. George 
says it’s the only chance. Everything de- 
pends on it.” 

Dr. Fisher looked thoughtful for a mo- 
ment. “No, it’s no use. My college duties 
do not keep me, for the Thanksgiving re- 
cess begins to-morrow, but I have other 
work which simply must be done first,” he 
said. “I really don’t see how it can pos- 


202 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

sibly be done. However, let me see your 

sample.” 

Jack took a little package from his pocket 
and handed it to the chemist, who went to 
the bench which ran along the side of the 
wall, opened the package above a large piece 
of white paper, and bent over to examine it. 
After a moment he turned to his visitor. 
“ Kindly give me that letter, will you ? ” 

The letter was passed to him and he read 
it through carefully. Then taking a little 
of the powder on another paper he trans- 
ferred it to a test tube. The lad watched 
him with a deep interest while he added a 
liquid, which, with the powder, gave off a 
gas. A slender wire in a glass rod was pro- 
duced, dipped in the liquid and held for a 
moment in the almost colorless flame of 
a burner. A brilliant yellow flame sprang 
up. The chemist turned to Jack. 

“I am going to try a spectroscopic test, 
so I’ll pull the dark curtains.” 

Jack nodded uncomprehendingly as, dark- 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


203 

ening the room, Dr. Fisher bent over two 
tubes set at angles in the corner. Finally 
he stood up and raised the shades. 

“Well,” said Jack. “I don’t know much 
chemistry, but I’m pretty sure of one thing, 
the yellow flame shows sodium.” 

“Well, I had rather not tell you anything 
since I have not seen the lake,” Professor 
Fisher remarked. “It’s a most interesting 
possibility anyway. Now the utmost I can 
do is to get up there in five days. Will that 
do at all?” 

“No, you’ll have to come back with me 
to-night for it to be of any use,” said Jack, 
pleadingly. 

“But I told you definitely I could not.” 
The chemist hesitated a moment. “I’ll tell 
you what I’ll do, I’ll send one of my assist- 
ants up there with you.” 

“No, you must come yourself,” repeated 
Jack. “Really, no one else will do. George 
wanted you and no one else.” 

“Now, Mr. Collerton,” said Dr. Fisher, 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


204 

indignantly, “you must understand definite 
English. I cannot come. I have told you 
when I could come, and failing that, I have 
offered to send some one with you. You 
have refused both. Now I am a busy man 
and I have no more time to discuss the 
matter.” 

He was about to speak even more sharply, 
but the look of utter dejection on the lad’s 
face made him hesitate. He changed his 
tone. 

“Mr. Collerton, I know you think you are 
doing the best you can for your friend, but 
you really are not. I have a very good man 
working here with me who can go, and who 
will really do just as well as I should do. 
You need not decide this minute. Just go 
outside in the laboratory and sit down and 
think it over.” 

The boy rose with a frown of perplexity 
and Dr. Fisher showed him a chair beside 
a sunny window in the laboratory. There 
he sat, scarcely moving, when the big bell 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


205 

across the campus brought a crowd of throng- 
ing students into the room, flinging note 
books on the desk, buttoning their long 
laboratory coats, and getting more or less 
rapidly to work with but a passing glance at 
the lad in the corner. 

Jack had sat quietly for nearly an hour 
revolving the problem over and over with 
scarcely a change of position when he 
noticed Dr. Fisher entering his office, ac- 
companied by a well dressed, clean-shaven 
young fellow with his hat and grip in his 
hand and his overcoat on his arm. The 
two were together in the office for perhaps 
fifteen minutes. At the end the young man 
emerged alone. As he stepped out he caught 
sight of a lad working at the bench directly 
beside Jack. He came to him and shook 
hands in a peculiar fashion which happened 
to catch Jack’s eye so that he listened idly 
to the conversation between the two. 

“ Hullo, Frank!” said the older. “How 
is everything at the fraternity house ? ” 


206 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“All right, Jack,” was the reply. “We 
have six new men, first-class fellows every 
one. I’m glad to see you here. I suppose 
you’ll be down to the house to lunch. How 
do you happen to be back?” 

“Oh, I came back to see Professor Fisher 
about some analyses he has been doing for 
our company. He has been checking the 
work of our own laboratory. I can’t stop 
here at all, I’m sorry to say. I’ve got to 
take the next train out of town. So long ! ” 
“Hold on, Jack. Where are you working 
now ?” called the younger man. “I want it 
for the records.” 

The elder fellow was turning away as the 
younger spoke, but he called back, — 

“I’m in the laboratory of the International 
Glass Company.” 

Jack jumped as if he had been stung. 
He thrust his chair from him with a clatter 
and strode wrathfully into Professor Fisher’s 
office. The chemist was writing quietly at 
his desk when the violent slamming of his 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 207 
door startled him. Too angry at first for 
speech Jack looked at him for a second and 
then the storm broke. 

“So you're one of the International Glass 
Company men too, are you? You're one 
of the gang that's trying to ruin one of the 
finest chaps I ever met and break up a 
business that's been running honorably for 
eighty years? You’re one of the men that’s 
trying to break up every home in that little 
village! There’s George lying sick, and I 
come down here and find the same trickery 
that’s been played against him ever since 
his father died." 

Dr. Fisher's face had passed through a 
whole series of changes during Jack's tirade. 
From the most intense indignation it had 
passed to extreme surprise and finally to 
the closest attention. As Jack stopped he 
interposed. 

“Now, Mr. Collerton, you must reserve 
judgment for a while. Do I understand you 
that the International Glass Company have 


208 FOR THE NORTON NAME 


been trying to cheat Mr. Norton out of his 
property? I give you my word of honor if 
I were to choose between the two parties I 
should incline strongly towards Mr. Nor- 
ton’s side. I always thought him one of 
the finest, manliest fellows we have ever 
had here.” 

So earnestly, so truly rang the words that 
the lad could but be convinced. He com- 
menced a mumbled apology which Dr. 
Fisher cut short with a pleasant, — 

“ Never mind that, Mr. Collerton, just 
tell me the story, if you feel that you can. 
I shall be better able to help you if I 
know it, and I shall keep the matter wholly 
secret.” 

Jack looked at the chemist for a moment 
and made his decision. It was perhaps his 
only chance, and he had told too much not 
to tell more. So he told all he knew of the 
affairs of the last three weeks, so filled with 
struggle, the desperate efforts which George 
had made and, last of all, showed the necessity 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


209 

for instant action, explaining that the loss 
of the Belgian’s contract was likely to mean 
ruin. 

While he talked the professor paced up 
and down the room. When the story ended 
he stopped abruptly. 

“Mr. Collerton, I will not see such a 
splendid fight as George Norton has made 
lost through any deed of mine. I felt I 
could not afford the financial loss that my 
going entails, but that boy must be one in 
a thousand. I knew he was a fine fellow 
but I never knew half there was in him. I 
can’t see him lose. I’ll go with you. How 
long before the next train leaves?” 

Jack looked at his watch. “An hour,” 
he said. 

“Good enough,” said Dr. Fisher, cheerily. 
“They have some sort of a laboratory at 
the mill?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you know anything about the 
equipment ? ” 


14 


210 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“ George told me that there was a good 
analytical balance and a lot of glass ware.” 

“That is all I want to know. Now meet 
me at the station in an hour.” 

Just as the lad and the chemist were enter- 
ing the train, the station master came hasten- 
ing out after them, waving a yellow envelope. 

“ Professor Fisher ! Professor Fisher ! ” 
he called, and as the train started he ran 
alongside to deliver the message. Dr. Fisher 
tore it open and after glancing through it read 
aloud, — 

Tell Collerton to meet Barnard by news stand in 
waiting room at Terminal, but don’t wait. George 
Norton. 

Some hours later the train pulled into the 
big terminal at which they were to change 
for the train to the factory. The two went 
directly to the waiting room, where almost 
at the moment of entering Mr. Barnard 
hastened towards them from beside the news 
stand. They approached him and Jack 
introduced Professor Fisher. The first greet- 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 211 

ing over Mr. Barnard proceeded directly 
with his errand. 

“George thought that we had better 
make sure that Dr. Fisher should reach 
the lake, and reach it immediately, so he 
asked me to come down to tell you that you 
had better take the main line to Nausmon 
instead of coming up on our branch. There 
you can stop the night, and in the morning 
we will have two men there with a carriage 
who will drive by an unfrequented way to 
the lake, and then down to the factory.” 

“What’s the reason for the change of 
plan?” interrupted Jack. 

Mr. Barnard smiled. “The reason is 
that we’ve solved the mystery. I have been 
working on that attachment ever since I 
knew of it and I’ve run down the people 
who really put it on at last.” He paused 
to make his statement more dramatic and 
leaned forward. “Everything that has hap- 
pened has had the International Glass Com- 
pany somewhere behind it.” 


212 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“I was sure of it,” said Jack triumphantly. 

Dr. Fisher smiled quietly. “I thought 
that might be the case myself,” he said, 
“but I couldn’t be sure. You feel certain 
about it?” he queried. 

“Absolutely sure,” responded the lawyer. 
“I know they’re back of it all yet they 
have n’t done a single really illegal thing. 
In every case it has been their subordinates 
that have done the work for them and on 
whom the responsibility lies. I’ll tell you 
more about things later but that’s enough 
for now. Your train on the main line leaves 
in half an hour.” 

George’s plans worked admirably and they 
arrived safely and on time at the chosen 
place. The men came in the early morn- 
ing bringing the superintendent, and the 
chemist reached the lake without meeting 
with any difficulty. Once there the beauty 
of the place seemed to attract Professor 
Fisher but little. In a state of considerable 
excitement he jumped out of the wagon, ran 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


213 

to examine the whitish crust upon the shore, 
tried the water as if washing his hands, and 
slipping a watch crystal from his pocket 
took some water in it and placed it in the 
sun to evaporate. Then he paced off one 
portion of the shore. Returning he opened 
a big leather case, taking from it four glass 
bottles. 

“ Going to get water in those?” asked 
Jack. 

Dr. Fisher nodded absent-mindedly, and 
bent over the watch glass from which the 
sun’s rays had removed the water. 

“Why, it’s an almost saturated solution,” 
he cried. “I never saw anything like it. 
I must get a lot of the water quickly, but I 
don’t want to take it near the shore.” 

“Let’s see if there isn’t some kind of a 
boat here,” said one of the men, and he 
started off in search, finally returning with 
a rude dugout. 

They rowed out for a little distance, filled 
the bottles with water, and before they re- 


2i 4 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
turned Dr. Fisher made several trials of 
the depth of the lake at different points. 
He also let down a cup-shaped sinker which 
produced from the bottom the same type 
of white powder as that seen along the 
shore. 

“ That’s all,” said the chemist, finally, 
after gathering a number of samples. “Now 
to the factory.” 

The trip down was uneventful, and at 
last, with its precious burden of samples, 
the wagon turned into the factory yard and 
drew up before the door. There was George 
hobbling on a stick to meet them. 

“I’m so glad to see you, Professor Fisher,” 
he cried eagerly. “What did you think of 
the lake ? Did anything happen to you ? ” 

“Nothing happened to us. Everything 
went splendidly. But I must get to work 
at once. Your contract time is up to-morrow, 
Mr. Collerton said.” 

“No,” answered George. “It was up 
to-day. I may have lost it, but I am hoping 





“Well, show me the laboratory anyway,” said the chemist 
cheerily. 


Page 215 









































t 




























FOR THE NORTON NAME 


215 

against hope. I’ve written asking for an 
extension but I’ve heard nothing/’ 

“Well, show me the laboratory anyway,” 
said the chemist cheerily, “and send me in 
something to eat. I want to get to work 
at once.” 

“And I must run up for my things,” said 
Jack. “I’ll be back shortly.” 

Once the chemist was shut in the labora- 
tory and the whole future of the Norton 
Glass Company was enclosed there with 
him, George felt an uneasiness greater than 
he had ever felt. He sat down at his desk 
and tried to work. Gave it up and took up 
a paper. Gave that up and tried to walk 
but his knee would not stand it, and he 
finally sat down in his revolving chair and 
began to twirl from left to right and right 
to left. The afternoon dragged heavily on. 
The only sound was the confused murmur 
of the factory. At last the door opened and 
in rushed Professor Fisher with outstretched 
hands and his face aglow. “The lake is full 


216 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
of sodium carbonate/’ he cried. “ There’s 
enough of it there to make your glass for a 
generation, and to keep the profits on it 
rolling in at almost any price. I am so glad 
for you. What next?” 

George had risen and stood leaning on 
his desk like one in a dream. It was more 
than he could realize at once. “ Sodium 
carbonate,” he echoed haltingly. “A sodium 
carbonate lake.” And then like a wave the 
understanding of his good fortune came over 
him and he started towards the door. 

“What next?” repeated Professor Fisher. 

“Why, Crevecceur and the contract. I’ll 
make a last big try for that. There’s just 
time for the train. Will you come part way 
with me ? ” 

“Come part way?” was the joyous an- 
swer, as Dr. Fisher tried excitedly to get 
his right arm into his left overcoat sleeve. 
“Come part way? I’ll come all the way. 
You can’t keep me out of the rest of this 
with iron chains.” 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 217 

Just as they left the door Jack reappeared. 

“Come on, Jack/' cried George. “Come 
to the station with us, will you ?” 

“Sure,” answered Jack, joyfully. “Where 
to next?” 

“New York,” answered George, cheerily. 
“Dr. Fisher’s with me for this last lap of 
the race.” 

“Don’t I wish I could go too,” cried Jack, 
enviously. “But I’ve got to hang round 
here with the balloon.” 

“I wish you were going to be with us,” 
said George, regretfully. “But,” he added 
with a sudden thought, “I tell you what. 
Come down here and stay at my house 
while you wait. Then we’ll have a chance 
to talk it all over when I get back.” 

“I’ll do it,” cried Jack, gladly. “There’s 
the train now. You’ll have to run.” 

Sure enough there was the train coming 
rapidly in across the meadows. With a 
final burst of speed the three reached the 
station just in time for George and Dr. 


21 8 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

Fisher to tumble on to the last platform with 
their bags while Jack waved them an ener- 
getic good-by as the train pulled out. They 
were safely off for New York and the Bel- 
gian’s contract. 


CHAPTER TWELVE 

At nine o’clock on November 29 Dr. 
Fisher and George Norton came from the 
railroad station and entered the office of 
Eyden & Amer. 

At twelve o’clock on November 30 the 
train bearing Crevecoeur, the representative 
of the glass syndicate, on his way to Mexico, 
would leave New York. So there was less 
than twenty-eight hours in which to close 
the contract for the glass, and to have it 
signed, sealed, and delivered. 

“Is Mr. Eyden in?” queried George as 
he approached the boy at the desk outside 
the offices of the big supply house. 

“Out er town,” was the brief, almost 
snappy, reply. 

“Do you know where he is?” continued 
George. 

“Naw, I don’t,” answered the boy, wearily. 


220 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


“ But who would know ? ” persisted George. 

“Oh! I dunno,” remarked the boy still 
more languidly. “I can’t keep track of 
everybody’s business around here.” 

George’s temper rose. “One thing sure,” 
he remarked forcibly. “You can jump and 
find out. What ’s more, you can do it 
sudden.” 

The boy looked up insolently. “Who 
are — ” he began, but just then a clerk 
opened a door at one side and started to 
cross the room. As he saw the visitors he 
advanced courteously. 

“Can I do anything for you ? ” he inquired. 

“You may be able to tell me where I can 
find Mr. Eyden,” said George. “This boy 
here is not in a mood to tell visitors anything.” 

The clerk turned to the boy with con- 
siderable irritation. 

“If I hear just one more complaint like 
that, young man, out you go,” he remarked 
stingingly. He turned back to his callers. 
“Mr. Eyden,” he said politely, “has gone 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


221 


shooting on the Jersey coast. He went four 
days ago and will not be back for three days 
more. He goes to this same place every fall 
about this time.” 

“Do you suppose I could reach him there 
by telephone?” George asked. 

“No. He is at a little place called Duck 
Bay, south of Long Branch. He is fifteen 
miles from a railroad station. No telegraph, 
no telephone, no anything.” 

George turned to Dr. Fisher. 

“Well, we shall have to let that pass. Now 
I am going up to see Mr. Crevecoeur at 
the Waldorf, and if you want to do those 
errands you spoke of, you might do them 
now. I 'll meet you there in an hour and a 
half.” 

“All right,” replied Dr. Fisher. “ Any- 
thing I can do for you ? ” 

George hesitated. “There is one thing,” 
he said slowly. “If you can, I ’d like to have 
you buy the best burnt-wood outfit to be 
found and express it with some suitable 


222 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

pieces of wood to ‘Mrs. Eliza Jones, Enders’ 

Crossing.’” 

Dr. Fisher’s face lighted up with pleased 
comprehension. “Won’t I ? ” he said. “I ’ll 
get an outfit that will keep Liza busy for 
months to come. Good for you, George.” 

George had the good fortune to find the 
Belgian at the hotel. He told him briefly 
that he would take the contract at his 
price. 

“Excellent!” said Mr. Crevecceur. “Now 
I will have my lawyer here at any time you 
say, and you can bring your lawyer to 
meet him. We both have copies of the 
specifications.” 

“No, I did not get a copy from you,” an- 
swered George. “I copied down the essen- 
tial facts from Mr. Eyden.” 

“Well, to make sure everything is all 
right, glance over my copy. I will just 
note the price on the corner.” 

He pulled out some folded sheets and 
handed them to George. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


223 

George read them carefully. His face 
suddenly fell. When he had finished, he 
said: 

“I have overlooked one very important 
point, Mr. Crevecoeur. For some reason, I 
did n’t understand about the clause requir- 
ing that a bond of twenty thousand dollars 
should be put up by each side to insure 
the proper carrying out of the contract.” 

“But you can surely furnish that?” 

“I can in three days. But to get it to-day 
in New York — Mr. Eyden is out of town, 
and I know no one else here who could put 
it through.” 

The Belgian shook his head. “I’m afraid 
that is an absolute essential. Can you not 
find some one who will do it ? Perhaps some 
bonding company might furnish the amount, 
or, if you could reach Mr. Eyden, I would 
be willing to take his bond for a limited time, 
and then you could manage another surety 
later, should you wish.” 

George thought for a moment. 


224 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

“If you will give me until eight to-morrow 
morning I think I can do it.” 

“It gives me very little time,” Crevecoeur 
said, “but I do not want to give the contract 
to the International Glass Company. I will 
tell you what I will do. I must leave to- 
morrow at twelve without fail. I will tell 
the International people to have their man 
here at nine to-morrow with the contract — 
telling them at the same time that even then 
I may not give it to them. If you get here 
before nine with the bond the contract goes 
to you.” 

Just as George was hurrying from the 
hotel he met Professor Fisher, to whom he 
explained the situation. 

“Do you want to go with me on what 
may be an all-night trip?” he asked. 

“Do I?” cried that indefatigable man, 
exultantly. “Come, George, you haven’t 
waked up to the facts yet. I ’m having the 
time of my life.” 

At top speed the two hastened towards 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 225 
Broadway where they entered the office of 
a garage. George addressed the manager 
without preliminaries. 

“I want a touring-car to take us to Duck 
Bay, on the Jersey coast, somewhere south 
of Long Branch. I want to go there and 
return in the car. We may have to come 
home by night.” 

While the car was being made ready, 
George looked at road maps of the region. 

Up and down the New Jersey coast he 
looked without avail. Duck Bay was not 
of sufficient consequence to be marked any- 
where. At last George turned to Professor 
Fisher. 

“Will you call up Eyden & Amer and see if 
they can tell you where it is and how we can 
best get to it by motor ? Meanwhile, I ’ll go 
back to the hotel, get some necessary things 
and a couple of caps. It may be cold.” 

When he returned to the garage he found 
Professor Fisher on the sidewalk and the 
car waiting. 


226 FOR THE NORTON NAME 


“To Long Branch first/’ the professor 
directed the chauffeur. “They say the best 
we can do is to go by Long Branch and then 
follow the coast.” 

They passed rapidly through the crowded 
streets from Forty-second Street to Madison 
Square, swung into the wholesale quarters 
and down on to the ferry. As they entered 
the dock on the other side, George looked 
up at the big clock. “Twelve o’clock,” he 
said. “We must get something to eat here.” 

By one o’clock they were plunging along 
over sandy roads, passing through pleasant 
suburbs with well-ordered streets, and 
through boom towns where cheap houses 
were rapidly falling to decay, through woods 
and by the sea. 

As far as Long Branch they went swiftly 
enough, but beyond that point they had to 
make many stops to ask for directions. 
Minutes that soon began to mount into 
hours were lost in useless search. On two 
occasions detours of ten or fifteen miles were 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


22 7 

forced by false directions of men who said, 
“Oh, yes, Duck Bay? Sure, why, it’s right 
down here,” and sent the party off on a 
wild-goose chase. 

At five o’clock they came to a little town, 
where they filled their gasoline tank and 
lighted the lanterns. 

Stretches of sandy wastes, low pines and 
naked boughs passed into blends of meadow- 
land and fenced garden. Here and there a 
village with perhaps a dozen lights came 
into the white circle of the acetylene-lamps, 
then a sharp rise, and below, the great black- 
ness and moan of the sea. 

Hour after hour dragged on until, in the 
last three villages, no lights and no way- 
farers were seen. In the last cluster of houses, 
after a vain attempt to rouse some belated 
soul, George looked at his watch. It was 
quarter after eleven. The boy’s face was 
haggard in the light of the lamp, and Pro- 
fessor Fisher looked at him sympathetically. 

“Pretty hard, George, but the game’s 


228 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
young yet. Don’t worry, we’ll get there if 
we have to travel every road in Jersey.” 

“Not many more left, I guess.” George 
turned to the chauffeur. “We’ll try one 
more cross-road. Take this road to the left 
down to the beach.” 

It was a lucky choice. Just before them 
in the barren way they saw a man trudging 
along with a gun on his shoulder. 

Drawing up alongside they repeated their 
queries. 

“Know Duck Bay?” the man answered. 
“I’ve just come from there.” 

“Do you know if there is a party of New 
Yorkers there?” asked George. 

“Yes, there is.” 

“How far is it from here ?” 

“About eight miles back.” 

George saw that the man was apparently 
a poor farmer. 

“I’ll give you five dollars to take us there 
the quickest way,” he said. 

The man stepped into the automobile. 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 229 

The chauffeur turned the car, threw on 
the high speed, and in a moment more they 
were rushing back. At every turning the 
farmer would point right or left, and the big 
car would respond. In ten or fifteen minutes 
they saw before them a rectangle of black 
with a single spot of light. The bluff on 
which the shooting-box was placed had a 
windbreak of low pines, and by these wound 
the road to the house. They stopped, and 
George went up and knocked. A man in a 
white apron came to the door. 

“Is Mr. Eyden here?” asked George. 

“He is,” was the reply. 

George heaved a sigh of relief. He turned 
to the car and handed five dollars to the 
farmer. 

“Sorry you have to walk back,” said 
George, “but I don’t want to use gasoline 
to take you there.” 

“Oh, I’ll walk eight miles any time for 
five dollars,” the man responded, cheerfully. 

By this time Professor Fisher was out of 


230 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

the car, and he and George entered a long 

room lighted by a blazing log fire. 

“I’ll have to wake Mr. Eyden,” said the 
servant, and he departed up the stairs. Soon 
Mr. Eyden appeared, his pajamas covered 
by a fur coat. His eyes, blinking at the sud- 
den glare of the room, grew suddenly wide 
as he recognized the younger of his visi- 
tors. He started forward with an amazed 
cry. 

“Why, George Norton, how did you ever 
find your way to this forsaken place at this 
time of night ? ” 

“ I came to find you,” said George. 
“This is Dr. Fisher, Mr. Eyden.” 

George told Mr. Eyden of the events of 
the past three weeks, the discovery of the 
lake, and the analysis by Professor Fisher. 
“Dr. Fisher,” he added, “has been so good 
as to come down with me and confirm this 
part of the story.” 

“I certainly can,” said the chemist. “I 
have seen the lake, made a careful investiga- 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 231 
tion of the conditions about it, and I can 
say without hesitation that it is a very valu- 
able property. It is almost a saturated solu- 
tion of sodium carbonate. There is very 
little in the lake besides. It should be pos- 
sible to work it at very slight expense, and 
there is enough of it to keep the mill running 
for years.” 

“I am so glad to hear that!” said Mr. 
Eyden. “So that is your father’s secret. 
But I presume there is something more 
urgent than this to bring you on this long 
journey to-night. How about the Mexican 
contract?” 

“That is what I came down for,” said 
George, and he went on to tell of the instant 
necessity for a bond. 

“I don’t want to put you to too much 
trouble,” he said, “but if you could give me 
a letter of identification which I could take 
back at once and which would enable me to 
get a bond, I should be very glad.” 

“ It ’s one o’clock,” said Mr. Eyden. “ How 


232 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

long did it take you to come down from 
New York?” 

“About twelve hours. But we ought to do 
a good deal better going back. We were 
forced to stop so often to inquire our way.” 

“Ask your chauffeur what he thinks 
about it.” 

The chauffeur thought it would not take 
more than seven or eight hours to return. 

“I will go with you, then,” said Mr. 
Eyden. “I can do very much more myself 
than you can do with any letter from me. 
I ’ll get dressed and we ’ll start at once.” 

The trip down had been slow enough to 
give clear vistas of wayside landscape, but 
on the mad rush home everything blurred 
into an indistinguishable gray, splashed here 
and there with the black of the waving 
pines. 

Higher and higher rose the low hum of 
the car as it rushed along, its minor changing 
to a major key, its low plaint swelling to a 
mighty roar as farm and town, deserted city 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


233 

street and lonely heath sped by. Crouched 
among the rugs in the tonneau, the pas- 
sengers conversed little, but sat silent, staring 
out into the spinning blackness of the night. 

Mr. Eyden stopped at an open drug store 
in the early morning and telephoned his 
lawyer to be at the conference. As the 
morning wore on they saw more and more 
plainly that it was going to be a close race. 
Swinging down into the short street leading 
to the ferry they saw with alarm that the 
clock read half-past eight, and that the gate- 
man was just closing the gates. George 
gave a warning shout, and the man paused 
while the car shot between the gates, up the 
roadway and on to the boat, just as the 
creaking chains told the moment of departure. 

As they crossed the harbor, the men chafed 
at the slow motion, stamping up and down 
in the raw morning air and watching the 
throng of workers by their side. Freed from 
the boat, George looked back. Only fifteen 
minutes more were left. 


234 FOR THE NORTON NAME 

On the very stroke of nine, the car drew 
up at the Waldorf. They found Crevecoeur 
standing at the door of his room, with a card 
in his hand. 

“Just in time !” he cried. “Their repre- 
sentative is downstairs.” 

“Let him wait,” said Mr. Eyden. “We’re 
going to take the contract now.” 

As they entered Crevecoeur’s room, they 
found themselves in the midst of strapped 
and labeled trunks and bags. The lawyer 
who had been summoned was already there, 
and it was but a moment before the lawyer 
of the syndicate appeared. The contract 
was produced, the bond furnished, and the 
signed duplicates were returned to Mr. Creve- 
coeur and to George with but a few moments’ 
delay. As they parted, George said: 

“How about the surplus stock?” 

“I will write you concerning that as soon 
as I get home,” replied the Belgian. “We 
will take half of it, anyway, and I think very 
possibly we can place the whole.” 



On the very stroke of nine, the car drew up at the Waldorf. 

Page 234 











•• 













' 














































FOR THE NORTON NAME 235 

“ Farewell, and a good journey,” said the 
visitors as they left the room. As they passed 
out of the elevator on the street floor Mr. 
Walter Gray was standing there, ready to 
ascend. When he saw George he greeted 
him effusively. 

“ Accept my warmest congratulations for 
your remarkable good fortune, Mr. Norton! 
I have just heard that you have discovered a 
sodium carbonate lake on your property.” 

George bowed coldly. “I may say that 
it is no fault of your company’s if I have.” 

Professor Fisher and Mr. Eyden had gone 
on, and George started to follow. With no 
decrease of warmth, however, Mr. Gray held 
him back and continued : 

“Our company, learning of the news, de- 
cided this morning to make you a magnifi- 
cent offer. Frankly, we want your property 
quite badly, and I have been empowered to 
see you and offer a quarter of a million 
dollars for your property.” 

He stood back as if expecting to see 


236 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
George overpowered by the splendor of 
the offer. 

George smiled quietly and a little mali- 
ciously. “I am sure I deeply appreciate the 
generosity of the offer of the International 
Glass Company, but I have just signed a 
five years’ contract with Mr. Crevecceur. 
I must decline your offer.” 

For once the suave Mr. Gray was non- 
plussed and speechless, and George went 
forth to meet the dawning of a better day. 

As George Norton went down the short 
road to the glass-house on his second return 
from New York, he saw a very different 
scene from that presented to his eyes when 
first, as head of the company, he saw the 
old factory. 

The biting northern wind swept down the 
valley between the snow-clad hills, and the 
dark, lowering sky made a gloomy back- 
ground for the huddled buildings. 

But cold or gloom had little effect on the 
boy. He was warmed, body and soul, by a 


FOR THE NORTON NAME 


237 

fire from within, the fire of success, success 
brought him by his own persistent effort. 

Just as he reached the entrance the door 
flew open and Jack Collerton rushed out. 
“ Hullo, George. Welcome back,” he cried. 
“How on earth did you ever do it ?” George 
Norton hesitated an instant and then looked 
up above the door of the office where, bat- 
tered by years of winter snow and rain and 
bleached by many a summer sun, the old 
sign still showed clear — “Norton Glass 
Company.” 

He smiled proudly as he answered, “I 
could n’t help doing it. It was for the Norton 
name.” 

So George Norton won his fight and gained 
a victory which kept the furnaces of the 
Norton Glass Company glowing at high 
heat for many months. For some time 
after this, life, though full of interests, 
flowed quietly for the young manager of 
the factory. Jack Collerton, however, was 


238 FOR THE NORTON NAME 
on the eve of unexpected, strange adven- 
tures. How a great undertaking fell upon 
Jack’s shoulders and how he came through 
to success, after peril by land and sea, will 
be told in the second book of this series, — 
“The Collerton Engine.” 





“ Unique among novels 


THE MAN 
WHO ENDED WAR 

By HOLLIS GODFREY 
Illustrated by Ch. Grunwald. 12mo. Cloth. $1.50 


Only anticipates events a few years. — Chicago Tribune. 

Holds the reader’s interest relentlessly. — Chicago Record- 
Herald. 

Vigor and imagination lend vitality to the plot. — New 

York Times. 

A reincarnation of an improved Jules Verne. — Portland 
Oregonian. 

A pretty love story adds zest to the narrative. — 
St. Louis Globe- Democrat. 

Hollis Godfrey has taken a stupendous theme and 
written a most amazing story. — Boston Globe. 

The handling of the various scenes is most excellent and 
even masterly. — Boston Transcript. 

Those who like their fiction full of mystery will revel in 
this galloping narrative. — New York Evening Sun. 

Shows uncommon skill in utilization of the gigantic 
possibilities of modern discovery. — Boston Advertiser. 


LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers 
254 Washington Street, Boston 




















































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